![]() At twenty-nine, you would think I would already be losing my looks. I mean exquisitely beautiful, like one of Bartolini’s marble statues. All that woman has are her great cow’s eyes and a head of thick curls. I don’t mean beautiful in the way that Joséphine is beautiful. I STAND IN FRONT OF THE MIRROR BEFORE HE COMES IN, and as usual, I am shocked to see just how beautiful I am. “As accomplished as any Hapsburg archduchess should be.”įontainebleau Palace, south of Paris November 1809 “Nothing.” Prince Metternich is quick to add, “Just idle curiosity.” But when he looks back at me, I feel compelled to answer. “What is this about?” My father steps back into the room. ![]() His sudden interest makes me uncomfortable. He crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the painting. I feel the heat creep back into my cheeks. “When will you be finished?” Prince Metternich asks. ![]()
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