“What do you think it would be like, living in Vienna, Duchess Helene?”
Nené took in a deep breath, and then, a miracle. She actually smiled. I could tell that inside her carefully tended head she had visions of grandness.
“When I am Empress,” she began, “I imagine that I’ll attend many affairs, dressed in gowns of velvet. Brocade. Silk. I’ll have rosebuds woven into my hair.”
I looked at her simple brown morning dress. It did, at least, have pearl buttons.
“But what about the Emperor,” I wanted to know. “Will you be in love?”
Mummi burst in before my sister could answer, “Love, my daughters, is not the point.”