Munich
1868
That night, Niels slept on the couch in his dressing room, leaving the bed for the Valkyrie. Rather, he didn’t sleep on the couch in his dressing room. Morpheus eluded him entirely. He thought about his wife asking whether he was involved with someone else and his answer that he wasn’t, not anymore.
Did that have to be strictly true? No, he couldn’t return to Hohenschwangau, not now, but that didn’t mean he must avoid all contact with Ludwig. His father couldn’t control his correspondence. Niels had no paper and didn’t want to go into the bedroom and risk disturbing the Valkyrie, so he composed a letter in his head. After the sun came up, he waited until he heard her stir, and then entered the room, sat at his little desk, and wrote down the words he’d memorized.
The Valkyrie watched, but said nothing.
A servant arrived with breakfast. They ate in silence, dressed, and went downstairs, where his wife announced to his parents that she planned to spend the day at one of the city’s art museums.
“I will join you, of course,” Niels said. Her eyes flashed anger, but he didn’t explain until after they’d left the house. “It would’ve looked bad if I let you go on your own. I’ve plenty I can do to occupy myself. Let’s arrange a time to meet. I’ll collect you and no one will notice we’ve been apart.”
She agreed. When the driver dropped them at the Alte Pinakothek, Niels instructed him to collect them again at five o’clock, walked with his wife to the entrance, and stepped inside. When he saw the driver was well out of sight, he went back out and walked to the post office, where he mailed his letter to Hohenschwangau. Then, he was at a loss. How could he fill the day?
He had few acquaintances in town, and none that he particularly liked. This was of no consequence, for he realized he couldn’t call on anyone who might tell his father he’d been seen without his wife. He went to a café on Prinzregentenstraße, where he drank coffee and read the newspaper. When he was done, he strolled to the Marienplatz and paused to listen to a military band play. From there, he wandered to the Academy of Science and spent the afternoon browsing their collections. He hadn’t expected to find it all that interesting, but it was pleasantly diverting. He learned more than he’d ever wanted to know about minerals and would’ve sworn that the animal specimens were watching him as he walked by. A gentleman told him one could ask to see the Cabinet of Coins, which contained no fewer than twenty thousand pieces of money from ancient Greece, but Niels denied himself the pleasure, solely because he doubted very much he would consider it even remotely enjoyable.
At the appointed time, he returned to the Alte Pinakothek, found his wife, and after the carriage arrived to collect them helped her into it. When they reached the house, his parents were in the sitting room.
“Wonderful news,” his mother said. “We’ve arranged a wedding trip for you. It will give you the opportunity to get to know each other and for your bond to grow.”
The Valkyrie raised her eyebrows at the word bond. “How thoughtful,” she said. “Where are we to go?”
“England,” his father said, “for three months. You’ll leave the day after tomorrow. The servants have already begun packing your trunks.”
“Three months,” Niels said, his mouth suddenly dry. The mail would take longer to reach there, and he couldn’t bear the thought of going so long without seeing Ludwig.
“I’ve a friend who lives in Oxford, an emeritus scholar of medieval history,” his father said. “He’s agreed to play guide for you, so you won’t have to concern yourselves with navigating the country on your own.”
“Medieval history?” the Valkyrie asked, then turned to Niels. “Is that a special interest of yours?”
“It is not,” he said.
“Then it appears we’ve both got an education in store for us.”