I turned back to the Prince, who smiled to hear this.
I can love him even when he is not singing, the Prince said. And so I cannot wound him easily, I think. Not like you, and as he said this, he reached out and brushed the hair at my temple. And while I bear you no natural enmity, over time, despite your charms, I would. He paused. Your charms such as they are for me.
The gesture, so like the tenor’s, said more to me of what he meant.
I do enjoy hearing you sing my compositions, he said. But even so . . .
I understand, Your Highness, I said.
Do you? I wonder, he said. I wonder if you do.
I did. All of the mysteries of my arrangement with both men were finally clear to me. I was something the Prince had bought for his favorite. I waited, saying nothing. I wanted us to arrive at the next moment, the one where he told me what I needed to do. I was sure it was next.
For love of him, I cannot destroy you. But perhaps we can cooperate. You want to leave, and I also want this. I will give you your freedom on the condition you act as if you were escaping. The reward is rich. Will you hear me out?
Very well, Your Highness, I said.
Excellent, he said. Let us plan your escape.
The reward was rich. The apartment on the avenue de l’Opéra would finally belong to me outright, papers drawn up to that effect. An account also would be created in my name, with an annual income to be drawn until my death.
He handed me a Paris banker’s card with the sum of 500,000 francs, written in pen.
Was this the Comtesse’s secret, then? I nearly laughed.
It would offend me greatly if a hero of this war was to live the life so many of your kind do, he said. I would not want to pass the rue des Martyrs and see you eating in that little café for impoverished singers. If you should still end up there, at least hide if you should ever see my retinue.
I promised I would.
He will speak to you the next morning of how we hope to honor you as a hero, the Prince said. When he does, you will see, right then, what you must do, what I am asking you to do. You will then depart, and a horse or a train or anything you like will be provided. Simply tell me now. Do this one thing more for me, then, he said. And all will be as you wish.
No one who had ever had my life in their hands had tired of it yet except for me. But I’d met the author of the tenor’s strategies—he as eager to keep the tenor as the tenor was to keep me—and so as I left his presence, a wild hope ran through me like a fever.
If anyone could free me from the tenor, it was the Prince.
§
The tenor came in the morning, as promised. I had not slept long, but deeply all the same. He brought a tray of coffee with cream as well as bread and butter with gooseberry jam. He set it down and went about the room opening windows. Good morning, comprimaria, he said.
Good morning, I said.
He cleared his throat as he sat down on the bed and began spreading jam on the bread for both of us. He set mine in front of me.
This is a breakfast my mother used to make for me, he said. He pointed to the gooseberry jam. She made this from a tree that still grows in her Garten. If I was very good, she brought the jam out. We used it very sparingly. It was precious.
I brought the bread to my lips. The flavor was sweet and tart. All food was still too rich for me, but I was slowly getting used to it. I didn’t want to retch up my hero’s breakfast, though, so I took just a nibble, and smiled.
We owe you a great debt. You were instrumental in our victory. You began as an important ally in the service of the Comtesse, bringing crucial information to us on the activities of the imperial consort. We had suspected that the affairs of state were more and more her responsibility—the Emperor was in the grip of a nervous decline, in increasingly great pain. Thanks to you, we were able to know just how often she met with visiting heads of state during an important period diplomatically.
I was still in my nightgown, still in bed. I could smell the wind coming off the river, the freshness of it commanding me like a spell. I longed to leap from edge of the castle into the river in one long dive, to feel the relief of the water taking me in, down to the bottom. A Rhinemaiden at last. I would never survive it, though it would be a beautiful death, but I no longer wanted death. I wanted to live again, stupid as that had seemed even just the day before. I wanted my freedom. And, I understood, I nearly had it. I had only to pass this last test the Prince had set.
There was always a last test and never any guarantee this would truly be the last. And yet I had to try once more.
Did you ever guess what the Comtesse did with that weekly accounting of her clothes?
He smiled, his hands behind his back, as if the answer to his question were there.