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“Is that a real place? It sounds like something out of a princess movie.” As I sip my beer, Hans returns with another mug, followed by a young woman with a tray of four more.
“Sometimes my life feels like something out of a princess movie.” Andi laughs.
Hans slides a beer across the table to her. “As you wish.”
“I love that movie!” Andi and I say together. We spend the rest of the evening trying to out-quote each other.
Our night out seems to help reset my internal clock. By the time classes start on Monday, I’m waking up earlier than Lina. Which isn’t saying much since she prefers to sleep until noon. But we have History of European Theater at ten, so today she’s up a little after eight.
We both get showers, then share the mirror over the sink as we do our hair and makeup. My favorite K-pop songs blast through the room. Lina bounces in time to the music as she wipes the steam away from her side of the glass, then stills to do her eyes. “I wish I could do eyeliner as good as yours.”
“I had a theater makeup course last year. It really upped my game. You might want to try a liquid one.” I show her how to hold the pencil and coach her through a perfect cat-eye. “Now do the other side.”
She starts, then breaks off. “I love this song!” She closes her eyes and dances, then stops to stare at her reflection—and the jagged black smudge on her lid. Grabbing a tissue, she cleans off the wavy line. “Ugh, the left is always harder!”
“You should start with it next time.” I take the pencil. “Close your eyes. I’ll fix it. Hold still!” We finish our makeup, then barely have time to grab a coffee at the shop nearby before hurrying to the station.
After our history class, we get some lunch in the student union, then split up. I’m taking German, while Lina has a physics class. There are students from all over Europe, so they teach everything in English.
Everything except German, of course. I took it in high school and college, and I’m still only in the second-year class here. They give us both oral and written tests and divide us into smaller groups. We’re told to speak only German if we want to learn.
I grimace. Despite Renate’s initial edict, Lina and I have been speaking English when she’s not around. Lina says she needs the practice more than I do, but she’s just being nice. She’s been learning it since she was six, and she’s practically flawless. I resolve to make her switch to German when we’re at home.
The first week passes quickly, with German every day and my history class alternating with a Global Operations Management course. Lina has a bit more free time, since her afternoon course only meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays. But Fridays are free for both of us, so we sign up for the tour of the city.
“I thought you said you’ve been here before?” We’re sitting on the steps of the fountain in the central plaza of the Universität, waiting for the last few stragglers to arrive. “Didn’t you and your mom already see all of this stuff?”
She bounces beside me, pulling an earbud from her ear and turning down her music. Once I got her started on K-pop, she’s been listening to Stray Kids and Seventeen nonstop. “We took a bus tour—one of those on-and-off things with the open-topped bus. But mostly we shopped. Freiberg has some amazing Christmas ornaments.”
I snort a laugh. “Yeah. I’m aware.” I don’t tell her I’ve hawked Freiberg ornaments at every Rotheberg festival since I was fourteen.
The rest of the group arrives, and Lina puts her earbuds away. We take the train one stop to the Altstadt and tour several ancient and picturesque churches, stroll past a museum that our guide recommends we visit on our own, then turn into a narrow lane.
Tall but impeccably maintained medieval buildings lean over the slender street, casting deep shadows across the cobblestones. Steep-roofed dormer windows stick out in odd places, and thick glass glitters green and gold from lights inside. Wood and metal signs hang from each building, bearing coats of arms and logos rendered in faux historical style. The arched sign of a familiar fast food place blends surprisingly well with the other, more original businesses.
“I’ve seen this one before.” Lina grabs my hand and drags me toward a candy shop. “The chocolates are to die for.”
After buying some sweets, we wander down the lane, taking pictures and purchasing a few irresistible items. Around the next corner, I stop in amazement. It looks like the Feltz Christmas ornament store has birthed a litter. Every shop is decorated in trees with hand-painted glass balls, carved wooden figures, cut crystal embellishments, lights, and garlands. Soft carols play in the background, and despite the warm weather, I swear I feel a cold breeze and smell hot spiced rum.
“This is—wow.” I’d think years of Rotheberg Christmas markets would have jaded me, but something about the ancient buildings and rough cobblestone streets make what could be a kitschy tourist trap into a thing of beauty. “I definitely feel a cold breeze.”
Lina points at a window over the closest doorway where a lace curtain flutters. “I think they’re blowing the air con at us.”
I wander down the lane, Lina at my heels, half expecting to see Teo. The Feltz family imports all the ornaments for the Rotheberg festivals, so they must have a presence here. But we get through the entire street without catching sight of him or his family name.
Our tour guide herds us into a tight clump at the end of the street, with the skill of a well-trained sheep dog. She does a quick count. “Everyone here? Good. Our last stop is the palace. It’s not too far—just up this lane to the Schlossplatz. The palace is occupied by the Grand Duchess and her son. On Tuesdays there is a tour of the public areas, including the dower house, Rosenhäuschen, and the state rooms, but our visit is special. We’re fortunate they are willing to share their home with you—only Universität students get this opportunity to see the old kitchens and cellars. This way.” She waves her yellow umbrella, tightly closed thanks to the lack of rain, and strides out into a sunny square.
We admire the buildings surrounding three sides of the Schlossplatz, then pause at a tall iron gate in the massive stone wall on the fourth side. The guide waves at the elegant wrought iron. “The royal estate is the official residence of the Grand Duchess and her family. The royal Schloss, or palace, houses the formal reception rooms, guest quarters for visiting dignitaries, and the duchess’s official office, as well as private wings for the Grand Duchess and Hereditary Grand Duke. There are ten acres of parkland beyond the Schloss, with several residences occupied by lesser members of the family and staff. Notice the coat of arms worked into the iron gate, including the motto added by the fifth grand duke in 1856. Wait here while I arrange our entry.”
While we admire the gate, our guide speaks to someone inside the guard building, then we file into the tiny structure to have our passports checked and photos taken. We congregate in an internal courtyard, waiting for the last of the students to complete the process.
Our guide hovers near an internal door. “We do not allow photographs, but you can buy a lovely memory book in the gift shop when we exit. Follow me.”
I snicker as Lina and I troop through the huge, ornately carved double doors. “Now we know why the duchess lets us tour—who can resist a gift shop full of forbidden pictures?”
Lina slaps my arm. “Behave. The Grand Duchess might hear you.”
“Right. I’m sure she’s waiting just down the hall to greet us.” We wander through a high-ceilinged gallery with arched windows on one side and portraits of past rulers on the other. The current Grand Duchess looks down on us, disapproving. The Hereditary Grand Duke stands beside a horse, staring off into the distance, attractive but kind of snooty-looking. Then I spot a kind of familiar face and point. “That one looks a little like Teo.”
