It had been a hell of a day, one that even the raucous laughter of his friend Miklós Esterházy had not managed to improve.

As always, after an evening spent with him at the usual beisl near Stephansdom, he found himself walking slightly tipsy through the silent streets of Vienna. It was getting late, ordinary people were getting ready to sleep in view of the next day, while some privileged categories were just starting to enjoy the evening – they could sleep late into the morning, and continue to laze around until the next night, to repeat again. Rudolf hated that, in fact, he belonged to the latter class. Perhaps he would have preferred to have a simple, common job, like writing books and publishing them for example, obviously under a false name, so as not to incur prejudice or favouritism –for he was quite well known in that city, being one of the sons of the so called guter Kaiser Franz I von Habsburg-Lothringen of Austria. And instead, he was chained in his study at the Hofburg, the imperial residence, with his many tutors, studying all the time to become one day, in case his older brother and current Kronprinz Ferdinand had no heirs, a good emperor for the Austrian Empire, just like his father. Too bad he didn't think his father was a good ruler at all, not to mention the ministers he was assisted by, especially that Metternich.

Do not misunderstand, Rudolf was a hard worker and loved to study. He had always been thirsty for knowledge, but not the paternalistic and absolutist rhetoric that his tutors continuously bestowed upon him. They boasted of taking example, like Kaiser Franz himself, from the great Joseph II of Habsburg, but they were totally falling short of the mark, in his opinion. Just a few of them, for example those of fencing, languages and horseback riding, objectively limited themselves to their teachings, without degenerating into sermons every time he expressed his own opinions, and the highly esteemed Major Latour, his military teacher, was in particular able to cleverly circumvent censorship and encourage him to explore new ideas on whatever the matter, could it be politics, religion, life. But still, only when he locked himself up undisturbed in the Court library, the Hofbibliothek, or when he slipped out after bribing the doorman not to warn his supervisors -and especially his father- that he was coming back late, or even better, not coming back at all for the night, these were the only times he could really put his mind at ease.

Surely it was known to everyone at court what he did on those evenings, but as long as no one stopped him, who cared about their gossiping. On the contrary, he was proud of how inappropriate they considered him and that exuberant Hungarian peer of his for going to eat and drink in places frequented by anyone from the common folk. All this seemed to him a double rebellion: staying out late and avoiding the tedious salons of the nobles, to be among ordinary people instead. He could finally breathe, feel alive, and stop hearing the thousand voices in his head, that made him feel inadequate as a member of the Habsburg family or even as a simple Viennese citizen. But when he faced some particularly hard days, and Miklós' chatter and some beers were not enough, then he had no other choice but to seek refuge in her arms. Not that there was love between him and that noble woman. There was, however, a deep understanding of each other. She was his exception to the rules.

Love was, in fact, something that Rudolf still felt distant, far, far away, and that most likely he wouldn’t even be allowed to experience. That's why he tried to convince himself on a regular basis that he didn't need it. He was a deeply rational man, an admirer of the Enlightenment thinker Kaiser Joseph II and he had to assert absolute self-control over his heart and mind. Or at least until the moment he felt forced to loosen his grip on reality and let himself be overwhelmed by feelings, emotions, although he didn’t like it. This whole deal seemed to Miklós a straight-up contradiction and he always criticized his friend for it.

"You are too rigid even when you try not to be. Trust me, if you keep on pushing your luck like this, you will break."

Thus, Rudolf as usual replied that he could not afford neither one of the two options, being less rigid and breaking. A statement that strengthened his best friend's thesis even more: that he had to absolutely change his attitude, for his own good.

The latter often took it personally: the Esterházy would have understood, he often remarked, if only he had been a Habsburg, especially one of the divine bloodline, he always mocked, namely those of the dynasty who showed golden reflections in the iris and pupil of their eyes. Rudolf never fully understood how this made them special and close to some god, given how things had been faring for the Empire in the last decades, but people still believed it. Let them believe then! He couldn’t care less of weird religious beliefs, let alone for such a mere physical detail. What really mattered and distressed him in that precise moment, as he walked the streets dimly lit by gas lamps, was whether, turning the corner of the next street, he could see a lighted candle on the sill of a certain window on the second floor of the Daun-Kinsky palace.

To his immense relief the candle was brightly flickering: it was the signal that Grafin Rose von Kinsky was at home and free – free for him of course. He felt instantly as light as a feather, his pace quickened and a smile curved his lips. He didn't bother to wear a hood to go unnoticed, considering how well-known he was, not only in that city, but in almost the whole empire: after all there weren’t that many tall, slender young men with such rebellious red hair, tied into a low ponytail that almost reached his ankles. As it was moreover well-known by many that he had an affair with the owner of that splendid Baroque palace. Her husband himself was aware of it. For this reason, not only he didn’t bother to disguise himself, but he went to knock directly at the main door.

That affair was found convenient for all the parties involved. For the husband, Prince of Liechtenstein, since he preferred to spend his evenings discussing with friends, and probably also some other noble ladies; that marriage had been purely formal, one of convenience. For Rudolf's personal chamberlain, Mr. Bombelles, who had in fact encouraged him in the enterprise; he considered it as a good opportunity for the barely twenty-year-old Archduke of Austria, likely future heir to the throne and awaiting for a suitable bride, to gain some experience with a refined woman, and to see if in that way he could manage to calm down his hot rebellious spirits at the same time. For Rose von Kinsky, almost in her thirties, unable to conceive children, it was pleasant to spend time with that young man who switched between quotes worth of a seasoned adult, whiny and pessimistic, and moments of pure poetry and passion, but also weakness, which he showed most of the time when he went to visit her late at night; last but not least, his performance under the bedsheets was highly appreciated.

And finally, it was undoubtedly good for Rudolf. Having barely a handful of people he considered truly close to him, he often felt lonely due to his position at the top of society, but since he discovered her to be a dear confidante, besides being a lover, his temper had actually improved quite a bit. She treated him not as Archduke Rudolf of Habsburg-Lothringen, but simply as Rudolf, a lad from a wealthy family for sure, but still, she would discuss a wide variety of topics with him without forcibly being accommodating or opposing him blindly, like how it generally occurred with the people of the court - ah, such hypocrites! With her he felt free, and comfortable sharing his thoughts on his current situation and future prospects. Of course, as a young and healthy man, he also had to admit he had been naturally struck by the calm and sincere gaze of that charming woman at first sight, during their encounter at a ball he had been forced to attend some time before. She didn’t act shy at all when she spotted that young man’s sight insisting not so furtively on her, and he also didn’t really step back when she blatantly tried to flirt with him.

He almost dashed across the entrance porch of the building and greeted with a cheerful nod the porter, who didn’t even have enough time to politely bow, before Rudolf handled him his coat and ran to the staircase to the upper floor. There she was, already waiting for him, framed by the magnificent frescoed ceiling, and wearing only an elegant nightgown and a fine lace shawl.

He climbed up the stairs three steps at once and without even letting her welcome him, he trapped her in his arms and began to kiss her passionately, pressing his body against hers. He didn’t need any formalities, getting directly down to business was far preferable.

"Good evening to you too, Your Imperial Highness," she managed to say when they both had to catch their breath.

"Don't call me that, Rose, I always tell you,” he admonished, returning to the assault of her mouth. She had to bite his lower lip for him to give her a break, earning another complaint.

"You're cruel."

"Rough day?"

"Horrible," Rudolf whined, resting his forehead on the woman's shoulder.

"I guess I can tell the butler that he can retire for the night, we shouldn't need anything else. It seems pretty clear to me that you have other plans for the two of us," she laughed slightly.

"What do you think?" he replied with a hushed voice on her neck, pressuring her with his body even more.

She chuckled again. Since he was clearly not in the mood for one of their usual talks over a glass of good wine, Rose decided she could make him sing for her instead. A thrill of anticipation ran down her spine.

She definitely appreciated having sex with that young Habsburg, but not just for his prowess – he certainly had a slender, maybe even too thin physique, still soft at the same time, in some way delicate, with porcelain skin. But the way he expressed pleasure was what delighted the countess the most. He was so sensitive to every touch! She felt like an orchestra conductor for all the sighs, murmurs, cries of bliss she could arouse in him, or like a sculptor for how she managed to manipulate his body at will. The sight of him, so immaculate, so noble, framed by that long silky hair, almost completely naked in front of her between pillows and sheets was comparable to a painting that she would show off in a gallery - and cause a scandal that Viennese folk would deep down appreciate. Yes, sooner or later she would have had to commission such a piece for her own room.

"Rose, do you plan to choke me with all these pillows?"

"It is for your own safety, Your Highness."

The way she called him, again...

"Oh, don't you remember the terrible blow that the headboard of the bed suffered thanks to your noble nape last time?"

Oh.

Right. That time she managed to find his weak spot, namely his chest, and gently bit one of his nipples. Rudolf saw stars and suddenly swung his head so hard without thinking that there might have been an obstacle behind him, that even some servants got alarmed by the thud.

"Now you are out of danger, unless you fall straight out of bed."

"Maybe we should consider it an option, given how- ah!"

The countess shushed him finally, unfastening his trousers and beginning to caress him, her lace robe slowly sliding down her shoulders.

Since he had such a terrible day according to him, Rose's intention was to keep him trapped under her and give him moments of pure delight, pushing him almost to his limit, before letting him take some initiative. And she knew perfectly well that this would have driven him even crazier. Unlike her husband, Rudolf was in no hurry to reach the climax and then wash his hands of it. No, he always gave her free rein for as long as she wanted, although sometimes he begged her to stop that pleasant torture, and then he would let her guide him, committing himself to fully reciprocate all the attention he had received.

"You're splendid, Rose," he murmured, already out of breath from too many sighs. She was eventually free from the last piece of cloth that covered her and towered him sitting astride his thighs, letting herself be admired by those gentle glittering lavender eyes. That boy was far too sweet. She was certainly not an ugly woman, and she always took good care of her appearance, but she still considered herself to be pretty average. She knew, however, that his lover never referred only to the mere external look of people. Ah, he would have become such a good ruler... But she decided to spare him a sermon on the matter that evening, or at least for a little bit.

"You are such a skilled flatterer when it comes to others, Rudolf, but you should also learn to accept compliments directed at you."

"What praise could I ever receive- Oh, Himml, Ros-!"

He almost bit his own tongue. She leaned over him, twisting his nipple and tickling his chest with her brown hair falling in front of her shoulders, while brushing their intimate parts together.

"I don't want to hear such a talk while we're in bed," and she prevented him from retaliating by biting his lower lip, so fleshy and red.

At last, Rudolf gave up, closed his eyes and completely abandoned himself to the capable hands of the countess. After all, he rushed to her precisely with the purpose to silence his usual defeatist thoughts and have some needed blissful fun. Like an overwhelming flood of the Danube, waves of pleasure started to pervade him, and time seemed to slow down. It would have been nice if it had stopped completely, so that he could stay trapped in that paradise. As he felt that she, still straddling him, was increasing the rhythm and frequency of her sighs, he feared that the night was already coming to an end. He immediately grabbed her hips and swiftly reversed their positions, apologizing for that abrupt gesture with a long and sweet kiss, while slowly returning into her.

“Are we in a hurry tonight?”

"One the contrary, let me stay inside a bit longer," he begged on her the lips.

Rose smiled as she cupped his face with her hands. His dishevelled look, with those reddened cheeks and eyes, filled her heart with tenderness.

"Of course, as much as you want."

It was now his turn to cover her with caresses, kisses and bites, on the neck, shoulders, breasts, everywhere. They reached the climax together. The young man collapsed next to her with a long, satisfied sigh, and let her snuggle between his shoulder and the crook of his neck. He inhaled the delicate scent of her hair, while she was curling one of his unruly locks between her fingers. He closed his eyes to enjoy the peace of that moment.