Pippa clutched her trunk and stared at it with mixed feelings. All her life she had longed to see this place. She had heard so many stories about the glitter and glamour of Vienna: the palace, the emperor whom the Viennese affectionately calledder gute Kaiser Franz, our good Emperor Franz, admired for his steady, fatherly manner; his charming but perpetually ailing wife, Empress Maria Ludovica; the countless children from his previous two marriages. Pippa could not remember exactly how many offspring the Emperor had, but it must have been at least a dozen.
Her father had always promised to take her to Vienna, but somehow that had never happened. Klemens had told her stories of the colourful parades, the grandladies and gentlemen who promenaded along the broad, tree-lined avenues of the Prater, and the roses that bloomed in the Schönbrunn palace gardens.
“One day I will take you there,” he had promised, threading his fingers through hers.
They had been sitting on the little rickety wooden bench in front of the cottage, watching the sunset. The light had bathed the meadow in shades of orange and pink, and in the distance, the Alps had looked as though they were on fire. It had been one of his last promises. After that, he had abruptly returned to Vienna, leaving all her letters unanswered.
Pippa looked about, taking in the clatter of horse carriages on the cobbles and the press of people hurrying past her. And now she was here, without Klemens, and without her father. A stab of pain went through her heart. Where on earth was he? Was he well? Was he ill? Was he even in Vienna? Why had he not written all this time? She had left a letter for him at the inn but had not been able to include her new whereabouts, for that had been before she was taken to thePolizeihofstelle. She would have to find a way to send another letter with the updated information. But first she had to take care of herself and her situation. Only after she had found stability and a roof over her head, could she search for Klemens.
A dark green carriage bearing a golden eagle crest pulled up in front of the gate.
“Gewehr heraus!” a voice shouted. Present arms! The guards snapped to attention; scabbards clinked and swords rattled.
The crowd came to a halt and turned toward the gate. A murmur rippled through the onlookers.
“That carriage belongs to the imperial family,” one man said, craning his neck. “It has the imperial crest upon it. It could even be the Emperor.”
“Not necessarily,” another replied. “Haven’t you heard? The Emperor had one hundred and seventy of these carriages built specially for the congress, every one the same shade of green, every one bearing the golden eagle. Now you know what they do with our taxes. Imagine what that must have cost. Soon the streets will be choked with them.”
He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “They say there will be two hundred and fifty crowned heads and princes, all descending on Vienna. Kings, queens, princes, dukes, ministers and more. This carriage could belong to anyone, the King of Prussia, or Tsar Alexander himself.”
“No,” countered a bearded man beside him. “The foreign sovereigns are to arrive later. It must be one of our own imperial family. The guard shouted ‘present arms!’ only once, that means it is an archduke. When he shouts it three times, it is the Emperor.”
“I know who it is,” said another, a baker with a basket full of bread under his arm. “It is Prince Lucifer, of course. Haven’t you heard? He is to return to Vienna today, summoned back by his father, theKaiser, personally.”
A ripple of excitement swept through the crowd.
Pippa turned to the man who had spoken. “Prince Lucifer? Who is he?”
“What? You have never heard of Prince Lucifer? The ladies call himDer Blonde Lucifer. He is the most charming devil of the entire pack,” the baker said with a laugh. “Too dazzlingly handsome for his own good, a worse womaniser than Casanova himself. They say the Hofburg walls tremble with his revels, orgies fit for the ancient Romans. Some whisper Kaiser Franz’s hair turned white because of him. A wastrel, a pretty face, rebellious to the core, and feared by all. Even Metternich loathes him, for he cannot bend him to his will. That is what makes him so dangerous.”
“He means the Emperor’s youngest son, the Archduke Leopold,” the woman beside her put in. “Of all the Emperor’s children, he is truly the worst. They say not even the palace maids are safe when he is about. Though I must say, I would not mind running into him,” she added with a giggle.
Pippa swallowed and tightened her grip on the trunk.
Well, these were bright prospects ahead of her. She hoped she would never have to cross paths with Prince Lucifer. She would probably punch him square in the nose if he ever tried anything with her, and then they would execute her for attempting to assassinate a member of the imperial family. Pippa watched with misgiving as the carriage passed through the gate and vanished into the courtyard.
“Mind you, that isnotwhereyougo,” Agent August had admonished her earlier. “Only members of the imperial family, courtiers, and high-ranking officials are allowed to pass through the Schweizertor. As for you, you will head straight for the servants’ entrance on the otherside. Someone there will take you to the central court office, where you will be officially registered as a palace maid.”
Pippa clutched her trunk in one hand and in the other the envelope of documents August had given her. She gazed at the door which, though meant for servants and deliveries, was at least twice her height and guarded just as heavily as the main gate.
“Come now, courage,” she muttered to herself, and straightened her shoulders.
She presented August’s forged documents, issued under a new name, Anna Braun. After a cursory examination, the guards waved her through to a clerk who barely glanced up before summoning a maid.
“Take her to theHofstubenamt. She is to join the cleaning department,” the clerk said briskly to a girl who’d quietly entered and curtsied. She wore an ankle-length dark woollen dress with an apron tied neatly at the waist and a plain linen cap that restrained every strand of her copper hair.
“Yes, sir. Come along.” She led Pippa through a maze of echoing corridors. She introduced herself as Marie.
As they walked, Marie eyed her curiously. “So you are to join my department. That is good, because theHofstubenamtis grievously understaffed and cannot keep up with the work, especially now that the congress is about to begin.” Her steps faltered. “Let me warn you right away. The person you must watch out for is Frau Benedikt. She is the real dragon of the palace.”
“Frau Benedikt? Who is she?”
“She is the Chief Housekeeper in charge ofeverything here. We call her the real empress behind the scenes because she is feared more than Emperor Franz himself. She has power over us all.” Marie stopped in front of a door. “You do not want to get on her bad side. I am to take you to her now. My advice is to keep your eyes on the floor and not to talk back, otherwise she will dismiss you on the spot.”
Pippa was about to retort cheekily that she did not care a whit about getting on her bad side, when Marie rapped on the door and ushered her inside.
A tall woman stood next to a table, inspecting a pile of silken napkins.
