Near Füssen
1868
Sleep was what Ludwig wanted, so sleep was what he would get. Niels led him upstairs, but hours passed before the king succumbed to slumber. Niels, basking in the pleasure of their entwined bodies, didn’t so much as close his eyes. Sleep, to him, would be a waste of this precious time. Before morning dawned, he shook Ludwig awake. The servants would return soon, to prepare breakfast.
“You shouldn’t be here when they arrive,” he said. “Better that they find me alone. I can walk back to Hohenschwangau.”
“I could lurk on the road, far enough away that they won’t see, and drive you,” Ludwig said.
“It would, perhaps, be better if we didn’t arrive at the castle together.”
Ludwig grinned. “There’s something ever so titillating about this subterfuge.”
Niels didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he helped the king hitch his horses to the phaeton. Then he returned to his room, crawled into bed, and fell fast asleep, waking only when he heard a tapping at his door. A maid had brought breakfast. He ate, splashed water on his face, pulled on the jacket he’d worn the day before, and headed off on the path that would lead him to Hohenschwangau.
He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt happier, more peaceful, less conflicted. He wasn’t naïve enough to believe he and Ludwig could maintain the sort of friendship they both craved. The world would never allow that, but at least they each knew how the other felt. Every color around him, from the grass to the flowers to the slate blue mountains, shone brighter that day.
He took a deliberately circuitous route to the castle, desperate to cling to the feeling as long as possible. Yes, he wanted to see Ludwig, but he knew it would not be the same as it had been the previous night. It would never be the same. So he meandered, along lake shores and forest paths, half aimless, half with purpose. Before he reached the gates of the royal estate, he saw a solitary figure sitting in the grass. Elisabet. She rose when she caught sight of him and waved.
“Come and walk with me before you disappear back into the king’s magic realm.”
“Is he angry that I didn’t come back yesterday?”
“You know perfectly well he’s not.”
“You’ve spoken to him?” Niels asked.
“Enough to know that, for a few hours, at least, he’s the happiest of men.”
“Why are you lurking about, waiting for me?”
“I was worried about you. I’ve been around him long enough to see that he comprehends the difficulties—” She stopped and looked at him, then rested her palm against his cheek. “You know it won’t last, don’t you?”
“I’m all too well aware.”
“I don’t wish to bring you any discomfort. I’ve never seen him quite so blissful, but the reality is—”
“You’ve seen him blissful?”
“Jealousy doesn’t become you,” she said. “He’s a king and will do what he likes whenever he likes. That can be no surprise to you. I’m not here to warn you off, only to beg you to be mindful of keeping your expectations in check.”
His heart started to beat too fast. “You misunderstand. It’s not like that. We’re—”
“I know exactly what you are to each other. I spoke to him at length when he returned this morning. I told him that God has made you both as you are. You did not create yourselves. As such, you ought to be allowed to freely admit who you are. It may last longer than a single season, but it shan’t be permanent. Not in the way either of you would like.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“Of course you know that. It doesn’t mean I shouldn’t remind you to keep on guard. Hold back a little piece of your heart, so that when it all comes crashing down, you’ll have something left untouched, something yours and only yours.”
“That’s all I’ve had my entire life,” Niels said, “my heart, kept for myself. I don’t want it anymore.”