Karl Marx said, “The superstructure changes according to the base.”
Then am I a man, or a woman?
Communists would think me a woman, and the bourgeoisie would think me a man.
“…….”
All alone….
Was it 1854?
In any case, no sane person would ever think of leaving behind the comforts of the twenty-first century to go to the nineteenth.
If someone says they want to go back to the past, that person must be mentally ill.
Hygiene, human rights, technology—everything is backward.
And what is with that double-headed eagle?
I was just acting onstage!
As if suddenly being dropped here weren’t enough, my gender changed because I was doing gender-free casting?
I’d rather have fallen here as Rudolf.
If I die, is it really the end…?
If this is a dream….
“Death….”
I shook my head.
The show must go on.
I don’t believe in God, but if God exists, perhaps this means I’m supposed to reenact Sisi’s life, just like in the musical Elisabeth.
“Still… I’m pretty.”
Amid this assignment filled with nothing but complaints, the one and only thing that satisfied me was my reflection in the mirror.
Ah, that’s not the important part.
Reenacting Sisi’s life shouldn’t be all that difficult.
After all, she probably wasn’t a woman who really… did anything.
Even the Sisi in the musical, when she did something for herself, was merely struggling to escape the imperial palace. She wasn’t some great figure who did something that changed the world.
“There’s not much to it.”
Or is there? The reason Hungarians especially loved her.
The Compromise.
If not for that, she wouldn’t have been the person Hungary loved most.
Wouldn’t it be more accurate to interpret her as a woman who clashed with Archduchess Sophie, endured the deaths of her children, and fought against the suffocating etiquette of the imperial court while carving out her own influence?
For now, let’s think a little more.
The moment a middle-aged woman entered through the silently opened door, I realized just how lightly I had been taking things.
A perfectly straight back, not a single hair out of place, and a diamond brooch that alone gleamed atop a black dress.
Archduchess Sophie.
From her appearance alone, I could tell what kind of person she was.
She quietly sat in the chair beside the bed and merely looked me up and down with eyes that looked down on me, without even a speck of concern.
“Have you come to your senses?”
Her first words sounded less like a question and more like an interrogation.
“A child who is to become empress collapses before thousands of guests and delegations from all across Europe. A disgrace to the House of Habsburg.”
Before I could even answer, she began condemning me.
No disappointment, no anger—only pure contempt.
“You have proven to the entire world just how weak and unprepared you are. I still cannot understand why my son chose a child like you.”
She paused briefly, then gave a glance to an attendant. Soon, the attendants carried in thick books piled like a mountain on silver trays and set them down on the table beside the bed.
“The position of empress is not one moved by personal feelings. The empress’s smile is the dignity of the empire, the empress’s tears are a calamity for the empire, and the empress’s body is a sacred vessel meant solely to bear the empire’s heirs.”
She picked up one of the books and opened it before me.
It was filled with intricately drawn family trees and sentences I could not even make sense of.
“Not from today—no, from the moment you married, you ceased to be Elisabeth of Bavaria. You are the Empress of Austria and the mother of Habsburg. You will have to relearn everything, one by one, even how to smile, how to walk, and how to breathe. Leave behind and forget any freedom to act as you please in your homeland.”
I had not managed to say a single word, yet Archduchess Sophie rose from her seat and, before leaving the room, threw out one final sentence.
“Your education will begin tomorrow morning. If you disgrace the family once more, even my son will not be able to protect you then.”
The door closed, and all that remained in the room was a massive pile of books and a suffocating pressure.
What a fucking mess….
Am I Sisi? No. Even Sisi hated this.
Is this the nineteenth century, or the sixteenth?
Weren’t other countries around this time slowly moving toward liberalism?
And yet this place is completely reactionary to the bone.
The moment I tried to get up from my seat—
“Your Majesty the Empress.”
One of the maids who had been standing silently took a step forward.
“There is a set procedure for Her Majesty the Empress to rise from bed. Your Majesty’s body is noble, and you must not move it carelessly.”
I stared at her, dumbfounded.
“A procedure for getting up?”
“That is so, Your Majesty. First, you must ring the small bell placed to the right of the bed to summon me, the chief lady-in-waiting. Once I approach Your Majesty’s bedside, Your Majesty must softly say, ‘It is time to rise.’”
There’s etiquette even for the tone of voice?
She continued speaking.
“After that, two maids will support Your Majesty by both arms and help you raise your upper body. At that time, Your Majesty’s feet must never touch the floor, but must land precisely upon the silk slippers brought by another maid. Throughout the entire process, Your Majesty’s gaze must remain fixed upon the statue of the Holy Mother before you, and it is customary to offer a brief moment of silent prayer for the well-being of the empire.”
Customary? There’s even such a useless custom?
Perhaps seeing my blank expression, she added in an even more businesslike voice.
“Every action of the empress is directly tied to the dignity of the empire. Every minor gesture upon waking is a ceremony that proves the sanctity of the Habsburgs, who have received God’s blessing. Have you already forgotten that Her Highness Archduchess Sophie said you must relearn even how to breathe?”
…Already, she says. The maids here are probably all Sophie’s eyes and ears.
For now, until I confirm whether I have anyone on my side in this court, I shouldn’t move carelessly.
If bad rumors start circulating from the beginning, even the people who might have become my allies could disappear.
The maid seemed to take my silence as agreement and stepped back again, standing in perfect posture.
“Now, Your Majesty. Please lie down again and begin from the start. The bell is to Your Majesty’s right.”
It had only been a few minutes since I had babbled that reenacting Sisi’s life was nothing special.
I had been trapped in an insane prison filled with damned etiquette and not a single shred of freedom.
I was just about to turn my body and shake the bell.
“You must not turn your body. Your gaze must remain directed toward the canopy. You must extend your hand and find the bell while remaining exactly as you awoke.”
I swallowed dryly and groped with my hand until I felt a cold sensation.
Ring—
The clear, pure sound of a hellish bell rang out.
The Sisi in the musical had truly been nothing at all.
After I had even put on the slippers, the maid checked my posture again.
“Your Majesty, that manner of walking will not do.”
I had barely taken two steps.
“Her Majesty the Empress’s gait symbolizes the authority of the empire. Walking briskly with such a wide stride as you did just now may appear frivolous.”
She began demonstrating directly in front of me. Quietly, like a ghost.
Her footsteps could hardly be heard, and her upper body did not move in the slightest. Her arms did not swing naturally, but were fixed as though attached to her torso.
“Your stride must maintain a distance such that the toe of Your Majesty’s shoe almost, but not quite, touches the heel of the other foot. Your gaze should be directed about ten steps ahead, while your chin must be drawn in slightly so as not to lose dignity.”
She stopped for a moment and carefully examined my posture.
With eyes like she was inspecting a defective product.
“The most important thing is that you must walk as though flowing. Not walking, but drifting over water. No one must be able to perceive that Your Majesty’s feet are touching the ground. This is the most fundamental etiquette for preserving the sanctity of the Habsburg empress.”
Damn it, the musical never showed any of this.
I swallowed a deep sigh inwardly and focused every nerve on the tips of my feet.
My feet almost touching, yet not quite. Chin slightly tucked, gaze forward. Arms against my body.
Even a newborn fawn would have more freedom than this.
The first step toward becoming the empire’s most beautiful and expensive ornament.
Who knew that damn first step would be this heavy?
“What is your name?”
At the question I threw out, the maid did not answer.
Rather—
“It is not fitting for Her Majesty the Empress to personally inquire after the name of a mere maid.”
A mere maid? How could the position of a maid serving the empress be that of a mere maid? This isn’t some romance fantasy.
“If Your Majesty has need to refer to me, you may call me chief lady-in-waiting. If you wish to know my name, you may request through the Imperial Secretariat a written list of all attendants and maids serving Your Majesty. That list contains not only their names, but also their families, ages, and positions in detail.”
Ha. Is this really a person? Am I talking to a human being? Or did I turn on the TTS for an instruction manual?
I looked straight at her.
“That is the procedure. I am asking now because I am curious about your name.”
But despite my command, there was not the slightest ripple in her expression.
Instead of kneeling or lowering her head, she opened her mouth while maintaining her rigid posture.
“Your Majesty the Empress. Your Majesty’s command is absolute, and of course it must be obeyed. However, the manner in which that command is obeyed must also be carried out according to the long history and traditions of Habsburg, through the most proper and formal procedure. That is the only way to establish the authority of the empire and preserve the dignity of Her Majesty the Empress.”
She took a step back and spoke to the attendant standing by the door.
“Send a messenger to the Imperial Secretariat and have them bring at once to Her Majesty the Empress’s office the documents containing the names and family information of all court officials serving Her Majesty the Empress.”
After the attendant bowed, received the order, and disappeared, she turned back toward me.
“As Your Majesty commanded, shortly you will come to know the names of everyone, including myself, through the documents. Her Majesty the Empress’s command only shines with authority when it is carried out through the most perfect and official procedure.”
One thing was certain: there were no people in this place.
Only positions existed.
I could now dimly understand why Sisi had struggled so desperately to escape this place.
A prison. A splendid prison.