Down With Cis

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Vienna

My Father and I traveled for nearly a day and a half to reach Vienna. And now we’re here, the city of music. My goodbye back in Bonn was a heartfelt one; My Mother, though happy for me, wept profusely. I had to say goodbye to my childhood friends. We promised to stay in touch, but the chances of that would be very unlikely. For in the eyes of Viennese high society, “Why would the nobles mingle with the serfs?” Of course, I had to say farewell to Juliet as well, as hard as it was. Once it was all said and done, my Father put my bags in the carriage and before I knew it, we were off.

We reached Vienna just this morning, and I can’t help but be extremely fearful for what lies ahead. What is the man I’m about to wed like? I’ve heard he’s very extravagant and throws the most lavish parties within his salon. Also, assuming on what I’ve overheard from my parents, he holds some sort of musical importance in His Majesty’s court. But none of that to me is important. I care not if he’s rich or poor, but what I yearn to discover is his personality. What if he’s absolutely charming in front of others, but then less than kind behind closed doors? What does he like to do in his spare time? What’s his favorite color? …most people would see these as somewhat trivial things, but to me, as silly as it may seem, these things are key on getting to know somebody.

The streets of Vienna were indeed an incredible sight. Everyone from maids to hairdressers to the wealthy walked throughout the markets, in and out of beautiful buildings. Some vendors sold beautiful materials, others delicious sweets. Before heading to this Count’s home, I picked up a favorite childhood treat of mine, Capezzoli de Venere, which translates into “Nipples of Venus”. As funny as the name may sound, they truly are delicious and I’d recommend them to anyone.

After about an hour of searching, we finally arrived at this man’s home. I must admit, it looked very elegant. It was tall and white, with its trimmings and other details painted a soft pink. My father had the driver of the coach wait outside. He knocked on the door, and it was opened by the butler who couldn’t have been at least a few years older than I, if not the same age. He nervously glanced at my father and I before speaking. “Hello Sir, Frauline. May I help you?” “Good day, young man? We were wondering if Count Rosenberg might be in? If so, you can tell him that Johannes Alexander has arrived.”

The eyes of the butler lit up, as if he suddenly remembered something. “Herr Alexander! Of course. Please, please, do come inside.” He escorted us to a large yellow drawing room, where we were seated. The butler looked at us and smiled. “I’ll go and tell Count Rosenberg. Oh, if you need anything, my name is Frederic.” He then left in search of this “Rosenberg”. Well, at least now I knew of his surname. Francis Marie Rosenberg…I suppose it didn’t sound too bad.

Big News

Misfortune - “An unfortunate condition or event”. Throughout my life, my family and I have been bombarded with anything BUT misfortune. My Mother and Father have both lead very successful lives, and my younger sister and I have always been very healthy and bright. I suppose that after twenty two years of being alive, some ill will eventually had to break the cycle and disturb our peace. Disturb my peace, to be correct.

To the rest of my family, it was great news. “My dearest girl, it’s about time! You’ll finally settle down and lead a long, wealthy life.”, my Father would roar happily. I smiled not to disappoint him.

“Don’t fret so much. I’ve heard good things of him! Your father was wise in making him that deal so that you’d become a nobleman’s bride. Besides, he’s rich, well liked, and held high up within the Emperor’s court.” My Mother would say this to calm me, but my heart was as lively as ocean waves on a stormy eve.

The only one that would hear me out was my sister. “I know you’re stressed out, Francis, but I’m sure you’ll be alright.” I’d scoff at her. “That’s easy for you to say, Juliet! You’re only fourteen. You aren’t in my shoes just yet…” My dearest sister who was eight years my junior would sit beside me. “Well, I know you’re scared…so am I. But just know, Frannie, if you ever feel lonely, I’ll always be waiting right here for you in Bonn. And if you can’t make it back here from Vienna, then I could always come to see you.”

Then we’d hug and make a million promises how I’d visit them for Christmas and that they might visit me in early June. My dearest Juliet… How I’d hate to leave her behind. But I suppose now none of it matters, for I’m stuck in a carriage with my Father, Vienna bound.