The fellow goggled stupidly. Of course, no one had told him that there was a Queen of Bohemia, he was young, he didn’t know anything, and he didn’t want to risk making a mistake. Who could blame him?
But she couldn’t just sit down either. A queen didn’t wait in the anteroom until someone had time for her. There were indeed good reasons for crowned heads not to travel to a diplomatic congress. But what else should she have done? Her son, for whose electoral dignity she was fighting, was far too imperious and naive, he would certainly have ruined everything. And she didn’t have diplomats.
She stood as motionless as the lackey. The murmuring swelled. She heard loud laughter. Do not turn red, she thought, not under any circumstances. Just do not turn red!
She thanked God with all her heart when someone opened the door from the other side. A head slid through the crack. One eye was higher than the other, the nose was set below them at a strange angle, the lips were full but did not quite seem to fit together. From his chin hung a stringy goatee.
“Your Majesty,” said the face.
Liz stepped in, and the uneven man quickly closed the door again, as if he wanted to avoid others pressing after her.
“Alvise Contarini, at your service,” he said in French. “Ambassador of the Republic of Venice. I am the mediator here. Come with me.”
He led her through a narrow corridor. Here too the walls were bare, but the carpet was exquisite and—Liz could tell; she had, after all, furnished two castles—of inestimable value.
“A word in advance,” said Contarini. “The greatest difficulty is still that France demands that the imperial line of the House of Austria no longer support the Spanish line. This would not matter to Sweden, but because of the high subsidies that Sweden has received from France, the Swedes must adopt the demand as their own. The Kaiser remains categorically against it. As long as this has not been settled, we will obtain no signature from any of the three crowns.”
Liz tilted her head and smiled inscrutably, as she had done all her life when she didn’t understand something. Probably, she thought, he didn’t want anything in particular from her and was simply used to talking. There were people like that in every court.
They reached the end of the corridor. Contarini opened the door and, with a bow, let her go first. “Your Majesty, the Swedish ambassadors. Count Oxenstierna and Dr. Adler Salvius.”
Disconcerted, she looked around. There they sat, one in the right corner of the reception room, the other in the left, in armchairs of equal size, as if placed by a painter. In the middle of the room was another chair with armrests. When Liz stepped toward it, both men rose and bowed deeply. Liz sat down. The men remained standing. Oxenstierna was a heavy man with full cheeks. Salvius was tall and thin and looked above all very tired.
“Your Majesty paid Lamberg a visit?” Salvius asked in French.
“You know that?”
“Osnabrück is small,” said Oxenstierna. “Your Majesty knows that this is a diplomatic congress? No princes, no rulers, and—”
“I know,” she said. “I’m actually not here either. And the reason I’m not here is the electoral dignity that rightfully belongs to my family. If I am correctly informed, Sweden supports our claim to a restitution of the title.” It did her good to speak French. The words came more quickly, the phrases strung themselves together. It seemed to her as if the language itself were forming the sentences. She would have liked best to speak English, of course, the rich, supple, and singing language of her home, the language of theater and poetry, but almost no one here understood it. Nor was there an English ambassador in Osnabrück; ultimately Papa had sacrificed her and Friedrich to keep his country out of the war.
She waited. No one spoke.
“Isn’t that right?” she finally asked. “That Sweden supports our claim, it’s true, isn’t it?”
“In principle,” said Salvius.
“If Sweden insists on a restitution of our royal title, my son for his part will offer to relinquish this very restitution, provided that in return the imperial court promises us in a secret agreement to create an eighth electoral dignity.”
“The Kaiser cannot create a new electoral dignity,” said Oxenstierna. “He has no right to.”
“If the estates give it to him, he has it,” said Liz.
“But they are not permitted to,” said Oxenstierna. “Besides, we want much more.”
“A new electoral dignity would be in the Catholic interest, because Bavaria would keep the electoral dignity. And it would be in the Protestant interest, because our side would get an additional Protestant elector.”
“Perhaps,” said Salvius.
“Never,” said Oxenstierna.
“The lords are both right,” said Contarini.
Liz looked at him questioningly.
“It can’t be helped,” Contarini said in German. “They must both be right. The one is close to his father, the chancellor, and wants to keep waging war, the other was sent by the queen to make peace.”
“What did you say?” asked Oxenstierna.
“I quoted a German saying.”
“Bohemia is not part of the Empire,” said Oxenstierna. “We cannot include Prague in the negotiations. That would have had to be negotiated first. Before you negotiate, you always have to negotiate what you are actually going to negotiate.”
“On the other hand,” said Salvius, “Her Majesty the Queen of Sweden—”
“Her Majesty is inexperienced, and my father is her guardian. And he says that—”
“Was.”
“Excuse me?”
“The queen is of age.”
“Has just come of age. My father, the chancellor, is Europe’s most experienced statesman. Ever since our great Gustav Adolf drew his last breath in Lützen—”
“Since then we have hardly won anymore. Without the help of the French we would have been lost.”
“Do you mean to say—”
“Who am I to diminish the merits of His Excellency your father, the Lord High Chancellor and Count, but I am of the opinion—”
“But perhaps your opinion doesn’t count for much, Dr. Salvius, perhaps the opinion of the second ambassador is not—”
“The chief negotiator.”
“Appointed by the queen. Whose guardian, however, is my father!”
“Was. Your father was her guardian!”
“Perhaps we can agree that Her Majesty’s proposal is worthy of consideration,” said Contarini. “We do not have to say that we will accept it, we do not even have to promise to consider the proposal, but we can still all agree that the proposal might be worthy of our consideration.”
“That’s not enough,” said Liz. “As soon as Prague is conquered, an official demand must be issued to Count Lamberg to restore my son to the Bohemian throne. Then my son will immediately make a secret agreement with him to the effect that he relinquishes it, provided that he in turn makes a secret agreement with Sweden and France regarding the eighth electoral dignity. This must happen quickly.”
“Nothing happens quickly,” said Contarini. “I have been here since the beginning of the negotiations. I thought that I would not be able to stand one month in this horrible rainy backwater. In the meantime, five years have passed.”
“I know what it’s like to grow old while waiting,” said Liz. “And I will wait no longer. If Sweden does not demand the Bohemian crown, so that my son can relinquish it in exchange for the electoral dignity, we will relinquish the electoral dignity. Then you will have nothing left with which to gain an eighth electoral dignity. It would be the end of our dynasty, but I would simply go back to England. I would like to be home again. I would like to go to the theater again.”
“I would like to be home in Venice too,” said Contarini. “I would like to be doge one day.”