That evening, Grafin Rose von Kinsky managed to drag Rudolf to the theatre. Lately, he had been even more restless than usual because of his father, as His Imperial Majesty Franz was inexorably aging and was starting to suffer from some ailments, and so the pressure on his family members was increasing, especially on his sons, and on Rudolf even more, since he was the only one with an actual sense of reality that others still seemed to lack, or simply did not consider worth worrying for. The throne, a natural occurrence on the daily agenda, wasn't it? As if that was not enough, the trusted Latour had been recently removed from his position as tutor since his pupil had reached adulthood, and the boy had cried rivers of tears. Rose could see it very well by the spent look of his eyes.

At the K.K. Theater an der Burg they were playing a tragedy by Grillparzer, which the young rebel prince would have surely appreciated, thought the countess, considering how that work had made Chancellor Metternich turn up his nose. Fortunately, the Empress consort had found the piece patriotic and had convinced her husband not to have it censored.

Miklós had also joined them, together with his bride, to Rose's surprise, not so much because the rowdy lad had already married, but because of what Rudolf had confirmed to her regarding some rumours that were circulating, namely that his friend, in agreement with the girl, had staged a kidnapping to force his family - it was well known how much of a rigid man the head of the Esterházy clan was - to accept a bride of lesser rank.

"You can’t imagine how much he talked about her, he was driving me crazy. And the time he told me about the kidnapping plans first, and then, immediately after, that they were going to be wed?!” he scoffed.

“Look at him now, look at how he struts!" he pointed with his chin towards the couple who occupied the other half of the balcony in the theatre gallery. She actually had to recognize that the energy the young Esterházy’s gaze emanated was always contagious, it could instantly lighten the mood.

Or at least in most cases.

"Are you feeling unwell? You look so melancholic," she asked Rudolf after having observed him for a while, taking his hand as if to warm it up. It was gelid.

"Is there even a moment I’m not, Rose?" he replied, as he leaned on her bare shoulder, bringing her hand against his cheek. Her skin was fresh and soft, while he was starting to feel constrained in his clothes, and abnormally warm.

"Rudolf..."

She heard him puffing slightly.

"It's about Miklós. I... I’m happy for him of course, really; he managed to marry a person who reciprocates his love. And he still spends a lot of time with me, he says that I will never get rid of him."

"But...?"

"I don't know Rose. Is it envy perhaps? I feel like there is a burden here, on my chest. In addition, my father is pressuring me into deciding to marry one of the "worthy" women he finds for me. Ah!" he couldn't help but grimace in annoyance.

"My father, he, who swaggers in civilian clothes among his people, but does nothing concrete for them and leaves carte blanche to the censors! I feel like him, a hypocrite, Rose, dressed up to the nines at the theatre when-"

His monologue was interrupted by thunderous applause and cheers for Rudolf of Habsburg, the sound echoing too loud inside his ears.

His heart missed a beat, but he immediately realized that he was not the Rudolf the crowd was acclaiming. It couldn’t possibly be him. And in fact, the ovations were addressed towards the actors who had just staged the merciful Holy Roman Emperor Rudolf of Habsburg sparing the life of the defeated and humiliated Ottokar I of Bohemia after the battle of the Marchfeld in 1278. His moment of relief didn’t last long though, as he felt the presence of Miklòs next to him and his mouth close to his ear.

"Imagine, if a revolution overthrew Metternich's regime and you were the one to be acclaimed this same way."

He abruptly turned towards him, his eyes widening, bright even in the dim light of the hall.

"Na Hawedere! Are  you f*cking kidding me?"

"Uh? No, why should I?"

He wasn't lying, his gaze was serious and crystalline.

Rudolf felt the immediate need to get up, get out of that enclosed space, breathe fresh air, but that sudden movement caused him a strong dizziness, and he realized that he was also breaking out in a cold sweat. Rose quickly intervened to support him.

"What’s wrong? Oh dear, you are burning! Miklòs, don't you just stand there, help me!" she hissed.

Rudolf realized that he had been dragged outside only when he felt the cold evening air filling his lungs, bringing him some relief. Rose was wrapping him up in her heavy shawl, on top of his own jacket. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or concerned. Or maybe both.

"Why didn't you tell me you have got a fever?!"

"I knew you wanted to go to the theatre so badly... and the same goes for me," he replied in a broken voice.

"You are such an irresponsible person! Even if the way back is short, we need a carriage to take you home, you must see a doctor!"

Rudolf’s face turned even paler, his lips trembling and the eyes full of terror as if he saw a ghost.

"No, I’m not going back there now, Rose, I beg you!" and then, still unsteady on his feet, he turned towards his friend.

"I also have to bring this idiot back to his senses!"

"Me?!"

"Miklòs what the hell happened between the two of- Ah, Rudolf!"

The young Habsburg had had enough and almost collapsed again. As he realized he was in a carriage, his head resting on the lap of his mistress, he finally gave up and closed his eyes. He knew that nothing could have harmed him as long as she kept caressing his hair and whispering reassuring words.

He woke up in the bedroom that had now become so familiar and welcoming, among the usual countless pillows and, above all, Rose's arms. He felt so relieved and grateful not to be at the Imperial Palace.

"Are you feeling a little bit better? The fever seems to have gone down."

He nodded slightly, still sleepy, clinging closer to her. Her voice was so soothing.

"Rudolf, are you sure it wouldn’t be better to call for the court physician? You couldn't stand up on your feet earlier and you're still white as a sheet."

"Mmmh, I've only been sleeping poorly lately, that’s all."

Goodness, how many headaches that man was causing her.

"And you must also have been eating just a little, look at yourself!" she reiterated sternly, pointing a finger at his chest, partially exposed as she had unfastened his collar and shirt to make him breathe better.

She was right, he realized, he hadn't paid attention to it, busy as he was holing himself up in the library or taking long walks, horseback rides or fencing sessions with Miklós to distract himself from the problems of his family and related ones. That sleek man always managed to win with a sword but couldn’t beat him at horse riding – or at least this was true until a few days before, when Rudolf was so distracted that he fell from his steed like a sack of potatoes. Rose mustn’t notice that huge bruise on his left side for anything in the world, for his own safety.

So, speaking of that idiot of his friend...

"He was so hesitant to leave you in that state, but I managed to convince him to entrust you to my care and go home with his wife. He was indeed truly worried about you."

The veil of apprehension that crossed Rudolf's eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

"What on earth happened between the two of you?"

"Nothing," he snorted, slowly sitting up and accepting the glass of water she handed him.

"He keeps insisting that I should be the one to succeed my father, and not Ferdinand. And earlier, at the theatre, he even dared to mention a revolution. A revolution, Rose! And I know he wasn't joking."

Her silence spited him.

"Don't tell me you approve of it too!?"

No, a revolution was certainly not something to be mentioned so lightly, and she would have liked to give that Hungarian a piece of her mind for being so brazen, especially when he should have known way better than her just how much the subject of "succession" worried his best friend. It was also true, however, that his presence and continuous prodding was actually good for Rudolf’s internal growth. Apart from moments like the current one, that’s it.

"You know that he just thinks of your own good, and also the folk’s situation. Sure, maybe sometimes he gets carried away by too much enthusiasm, but Rudolf, we all know your brother isn’t that-"

"Yeah exactly, I'm the problem here!" he finally blurted out, falling back on the pillow and covering his face with an arm.

"I was afraid, earlier, at the theatre, you know? I am absolutely f*cking scared every time I think about the future."

"There's still time, your father isn't dying yet, and first your brother-"

"My brother isn’t going to have children for sure, he is sick and therefore it will be my turn, with or without a revolution. And that's not it! It's not just that, Rose..."

She felt sorry for touching that raw nerve, in particular when he wasn’t feeling well. She had been angry with Miklós for his lack of tact, but now she had to admit that she was forcing Rudolf’s hand as well. The damage had been already done in any way; thus, she might have tried to get to the end of the problem or he would have continued to keep everything inside himself as usual, until he would have gotten sick of it, just as it had just happened.

"None of us brothers should become Emperor, none is suitable. The succession law is stupid! Just because we were born from a ruler doesn’t mean we are able lead the Empire! Even my father, oh Gott, if only he listened to a good advice every now and then! But he is, or he acts deaf, unless it comes from someone that pleases him! And in the meantime, Ferdinand, that Nanderltrotterl, lives in his own world, he only cares about his plants, he doesn’t give a sh*t about anything else! But, oh, he has the Habsburgs damned eyes so of course he must be suitable to the throne! It is a gift from God! And Franz Karl thinks only of making happy his betrothed, that Sofia. They are spineless, both. While that woman, trust me, she is the one that really can't wait to get her clutches on the Crown! She is going to be the only real man at court. Damn it! Verflixt und zugenäht!"

"Shhh, slow down, don't force yourself," kindly interrupted the countess.

She had long since noticed that, whenever he got passionate or started ranting about matters he cared about, Rudolf abandoned the elegant dialect typical of the court, to talk and curse more like a carpenter working on the Stephansdom. 

"Look at me and stop hiding your eyes, you know I like them" she added, gently moving his harm away and kissing him on the forehead. She felt him relax under the touch of her lips, letting out a long trembling sigh.

"And what about you, why shouldn't you become Emperor? If it's just because you're afraid, it's normal to feel like this, isn't it?”

Another sigh.

…

“Listen, I understand that we live in two very different situations. After all, I lead a comfortable life without great worries and anything being expected of me. I also have a husband who leaves me free to do whatever I want. And you know that I like you this way, I don’t want to push you to become someone you don’t feel like. Still, Ru, why are you always so troubled? You're still so young, and you're also getting an appropriate education to your role, you wouldn't be thrown alone into the lion’s den, am I right? This is what concerns me."

Or at least, so she hoped. She thought about it for an instant and finally decided it was time for that question she had been mulling over for a while.