Schloss Hohenschwangau
1868
They didn’t return to the castle from their picnic until nearly one o’clock in the morning. Elisabet’s observation about the lack of enthusiasm the staff had for going out after that to clean up the remains of the picnic was dead right. There was much grumbling belowstairs, not that the king would ever notice. Unlike the servants, Ludwig and his friends had no commitments the next day, and they all slept past eleven in the morning. Niels woke up first, not because he was ready to, but because his valet roused him.
“Sir, your father is here.”
Niels stirred, but didn’t open his eyes. He heard the man’s voice, but it sounded miles away, as if it were coming from beyond the mountains.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, but he’s demanding to see you.”
Father. Father. Through the fog in his head, Niels vaguely grasped the meaning of the word. Still, he didn’t open his eyes. Then the door to his room slammed violently open.
“Get out of bed at once!”
The harsh gravel of the words had their desired effect. Niels sat bolt upright.
“Would you like me to bring you coffee, sir?” the valet asked.
“Absolutely not,” Baron von Schön said. “Leave us.”
The valet scurried off.
“Father, I wasn’t expecting—”
“You haven’t replied to my last six letters and I grew tired of waiting. How many times must I order you back to Munich before you comply?”
“Why is it necessary to have me in Munich?” Niels asked, rising from his bed and pulling on a dressing gown.
“From what I see here, it’s more necessary than I previously believed. Still abed this late in the day? What sort of degenerate have you become? It’s a disgrace. Put on some clothes and get yourself downstairs. We’ll speak in a civilized fashion.”
His father charged out of the room, slamming the heavy door behind him. Niels was trembling. He knew what civilized conversations with his father entailed: obsequiousness, self-loathing, and absolute capitulation. He bathed quickly and pulled on his most somber suit.
His father was waiting for him in the Welfenzimmer, a cozy, comfortable room with bookcases lining the walls beneath paintings of noble knights and ladies. Today, there was no warmth in the space. It was as if his father had frozen the very air.
“It is unacceptable that it is necessary for me to come here myself and bring you home,” the baron said, “but you leave me no choice. You have wasted far too much time playing whatever absurd games it is that His Majesty favors. As monarch, he has license to behave in whatever eccentric fashion he fancies. You do not. You have responsibilities to your family.”
“Father, I’m entirely confused,” Niels said. “Surely it’s an honor to our family that I’ve become friends with the king—”
“Don’t flatter yourself into thinking that’s something to brag about. It’s time you learn how to run the estate and how to manage our fortune, not to mention to start fulfilling your duties as my heir.”
“You’re right, of course.” Niels did not meet his father’s eyes; he knew it would irritate him. “I’ve been remiss.”
“Remiss?” The baron grunted. “Is that what you call it?”
“I beg your forgiveness, sir.”
“You’d bloody well better. I’ve had enough of your antics. We’re leaving without delay. Your valet will follow with whatever belonging you have here.”
“Father, I can’t just—”
“Pardon? I must be mistaken, but it sounds almost as if you’re daring to contradict me. We are leaving now.”
Niels bowed his head. “May I bid farewell to the king? It would be rude not to thank him for his hospitality.”
“He deserves no thanks for keeping you here for such an extended period.” He tugged at a bellpull. “But we shall observe the proprieties and see if he’s available to hear your goodbyes.”
“I don’t believe he’s risen yet—”
The baron exploded in fury. “I’m not interested in enabling His Majesty’s dissolute habits. If he wishes to see you before he leaves, he can. If he can’t drag himself from the royal bed, that’s for him to choose.” His manner turned as soon as Ludwig’s butler entered the room. “My son and I must return to Munich at once. We have no desire to disturb the king, but if he’s not otherwise engaged, we’d be grateful for the opportunity to take our leave of him.”
“I believe he is not yet awake, sir,” the butler said. “He was up quite late tending to state business.”
“No matter, no matter,” the baron said, his manner all ease and grace. “You will pass along our best regards, won’t you?”
“Naturally, sir.”
And just like that, it was over. The blissful days, the moody nights, the feeling of being accepted and loved. Niels pretended to sleep the entire way back to Munich. He couldn’t bear to look at his father’s face.