Olga Nikolaevna (Part 2)

Olga Nikolaevna said indignantly, but Empress Alexandra merely gave her daughter a fond tap on the back of the hand.

"You should see the good in people, too. A man like that definitely wouldn't cheat any more easily than your father."

Olga Nikolaevna was speechless. But after seeing her sister-in-law's wretched life as a widow in all but name, she knew that was what it meant to wish you were dead. Then, in a flash, she thought of something amusing.

"Mother, isn't that Franz Joseph supposed to be a 'born saint'? Do you think he'll pull out a Bible this time?"

"Cheeky."

Empress Alexandra tapped her daughter on the forehead. She began to worry about her daughter's future. After all, the old maid had far too many little schemes; she probably wasn't cut out to be an empress.

At the time, European courts generally believed that women who were obedient and lacked strong opinions made better empresses or queens.

But as time went by, Empress Alexandra couldn't be bothered to interfere anymore, because life at Schönbrunn Palace was simply too languid.

The pleasant temperature, the comfortable life, the delicious food, the beautiful scenery, the soothing music, and the carefree days were intoxicating.

Olga Nikolaevna didn't even bother tying up her hair anymore. She simply let it cascade over her shoulders like a waterfall.

She casually picked up a slice of pizza, then flipped through the pages of a book with her slender fingers. When the servants weren't looking, she tossed the crust she'd left behind to the Great Auk waiting patiently nearby.

Aristocrats usually ate pizza with a knife and fork, but when Olga Nikolaevna had first arrived, she'd seen Franz's younger sister Maria eating it with her hands.

And so the Russian princess had picked up the habit, though