Isabella Marie Streicher. This her name was. Thus she was known among her friends, neighbors and all the people of the city.
She was well known in Vienna. Descending from one of the most wealthy families, known as the most beautiful girl in town and famous for her musical aptitudes, talent for the piano and silvery voice; Isabella Marie Streicher was one of the most popular and best liked girls of the Austrian community of 1800. Everything was perfect in her life.
As a matter of fact, Isabella was the perfection itself. There has never been a single person who didn't love her at the very moment of meeting her. She was the favorite of everyone, beloved by everyone and admired by everyone. Her caprices were everybody's commands and anyone was willing to jump into the jaws of a lion just to see a little grin on her face... or as well kill who ever dared upset her.
All of Isabella Streicher's charm was seen in only a glance. It was enough just to see her from afar to become her most devout vassal. No man in Vienna could resist her large, bright, turquoise eyes; her soft, dawn-tinted cheeks, her carmine mouth with so exquisitely shaped lips and matchless little snow-white teeth and those shining ambarine ringlets that fell on a cascade over the graceful and delicately sculpted features of her angel face.
Each single line in her was traced with such absolute perfection that it was hard to believe that a girl like that could actually exist. She appeared to most of her suitors a fairy instead of a woman. Any of them would have given an empire just to kiss only once her white and shapely hands. Isabella Streicher was more divine that anyone can picture; a sight that could make the very Aphrodite boil with jealousy.
She wasn't very tall though the slender lines of her figure made her appear to be. Her feet were tiny and her walking refined; every movement in her extremely graceful. Her swan neck and slim waist suited perfectly her enchanting appearance. Her manners were impeccable, her voice was always sugary, her smile could make the very sun eclipse and her spirit was fresh and charming. Wherever she was, she seemed to be the light, a flower, a sunbeam. Any room would be brighter and warmer when Isabella Streicher was in it. She was perfect in every way. Wherever she might be, she was to stand out.
Despite her beauty and grace, very few people knew the real temperament that was so well disguised behind that lovely expression. Very few people knew it because Isabella actually had very few friends. The irresistible sentiment of affection the girl arouse in everyone at the first meeting was seldom returned. Isabella was not a caring girl; at all.
Under her charming smile and fragile figure the girl's heart was hard and cold as an ice stone. According to her little fancy world she was a queen and everybody on the face of the planet was to be under her thumb. Everybody should love and admire her. She should stay above on her gold pedestal and watch them conceitedly and carelessly. She could walk over them whenever she wished to. All the inhabitants of the world were destined to serve and please her. She knew how to control and manipulate everyone, to make them obey her desires and adore her; and though she presented all of them with her sweetest smiles, she felt for most a harsh and bitter disdain.
With the only exception of her father, all the men in the life of Isabella were worthless of her slightest attention, merely clowns ready to serve and amuse her and she enjoyed playing with their fragile hearts.
As for women, only her cousin Johanna received any affection from her. Isabella's love wasn't too devout however. Merely these two people had the privilege of Isabella's heart, but the girl wouldn't have moved a finger to save their lives if she had to.
Isabella Streicher was glacial, selfish, spoilt, stubborn, jealous, revengeful, capricious, conceited and scornful. But she was indeed a great actress and knew very well how to hide her claws when the circumstances required it. And her complete beauty allowed that everything she ever did, was always forgiven.
That spring afternoon while her maid was bathing and dressing her for the evening's party Isabella didn't quit sighing with a trace of melancholy and apathy in her eyes. Johanna who was also adjusting herself for the occasion looked at her intensely, regardful as she noticed the silent and gloom ambient in the room.
Normally, when Isabella was getting ready for a party, she was very animated. Spoke tirelessly about her pretty dress, the great emotion she would arise when she made her appearance in the room and all the passionate looks she would get from the boys while getting jealous looks from the other girls. She would laugh recalling her last parties, cruelly criticize the other girls, less beautiful, that secretly envied her and proudly talked about all the hearts she was going to break, making ambitious plans for the night, anticipating her success and relishing maliciously those tender glances she was going to reject.
But that day she kept silent and serious. Thoughtful. Almost bored. She hadn't said a word since breakfast. It wasn't her nature to be quiet, especially in party days. And Johanna knew it very well.
"Are you so bad-tempered for the wedding?" she asked, alluding the last day's party, while both were making up in front of a huge silver mirror. Isabella looked at her harshly and kept silent. Johanna tried to hold her laughter and went on to lit her cousin's annoyance, "I hope they be very happy."
"They won't!" said Isabella shortly. "Anton is in love with me! Only!"
"But you won't marry him, honey", remarked Johanna cheerfully.
"I don't care! He was mine. I'll never forgive him to leave me for this... stupid carrottop lassie."
"Isabella, dearest", said her cousin bursting into laughter "If you don't remember it you withdrawn him. He asked you to marry him."
"I was right in rejecting him", said the girl with a little smile, "This deep and endless love he professed me was so frail that I hardly said 'no' and he was already engaged. But I bet he still loves me."
"What about it? You don't care a bit for him." Johanna put her sapphire earrings on while she looked in the mirror at the maid who was heating the metal bar to fix her golden hair.
"No," said Isabella carelessly while she covered her white swan neck with powder "I don't love my shoes either but I like to know they're mine. Be careful with that," she turned harshly at the maid bringing the metal bar "if you ruin my hair you're fired in the twinkling of an eye."
The young girl who held the metal bar began very carefully to coil her sunny hair, praying for not making any mistakes, for she knew very well that Isabella's temper was even hotter than the bar itself. And she would have no pity on her if she made the slightest error in her do. Isabella rested her head on her hands and contemplated her reflection with a temperate smile. "I'll be dazzling tonight." Johanna who was looking dolefully at the girl doing Isabella's hair turned her sky blue eyes to her cousin as she heard her speaking, noticing a low mischievous tone in her voice. "At least you have your mood back," she said with a mock grin.
Isabella's eyes shined as the malice reflected in them deepened, and her smile turned cold and tense "I'll be as beautiful as I've never been... Anton is going to know the kind of angel he's just lost."
"He knows it very well, I'd say." Johanna said slightly annoyed at Isabella's complete lack of heart. "I believe you tortured him enough already. Besides he's married. If you even dream of flirting with him the whole town will talk and babble about you and you'll be labeled a slut before dawn."
Isabella looked at her coldly, for there was nothing more upsetting for her than having someone reminding her manners she knew very well. Specially, when those manners were the ones that always spoilt her fun. Noticing Isabella's pout, Johanna turned her eyes away pretending she said nothing and her cousin calmed herself instead of starting a fight.
"You're right"; Isabella finished fixing her hair "I better torture Hänsel or Gregor or Karl...
"Don't be so greedy! Leave something to me. You get all the attention while I sit down alone and exiled?" she looked at herself in the big mirror near the wardrobe. In fact Johanna Streicher was almost as pretty as her cousin, though she didn't have this special shine and charm: her eyes had a sweet sea color and her skin had that pale white-pinky tone that European aristocracy always looked for. Her rosy cheeks and red lips combined nicely with her golden hair that fell in cascade of curls above her white forehead and bowed brows.
She knew she wasn't pretty as her cousin, but jealousy was out of her nature. Though she was dazzling enough herself, when she was beside Isabella -where, unfortunately, she was all the time- she looked like a pallid and lifeless ghost. She didn't have Isabella's strong temper and lively character. It was like a little shy violet beside a bright red rose tree; like a pale twinkling star beside the glistening sun.
Isabella went to the mirror too and relished her charming image with extreme pride. She was wearing a satin azure dress, with emerald laces, long violet gloves that almost touched her elbows and a very bright diamond necklace that made her neck look slimmer and longer. She had a special predilection for blue and green dresses for they made her turquoise eyes really stand out. She wrapped herself into her velvet shawl and sent an oblique glance at the mirror. Practiced that charming captivating look she was going to use at the party with her suitors, letting her long lashes fall enticingly over her large eyes and rehearsing her smile, half-hidden behind her fan; a gesture that drove most of men crazy. She relished this semblance her heart filled with self-satisfaction. "Oh! I'm a most delightful sight! You better stay away from me tonight, Johanna deary. I might unlit you." Johanna smiled and shrugged. "You always do."
"Well, let's go." Isabella took her arm and pulled her impatiently to the door "I'm sure there must be some new boy in the party and I can't wait to see him laying at my feet."
We couldn't say that Isabella was madly excited about parties. They were something so common in her life like breakfast. However she enjoyed them tremendously and her favorite part was the moment when she made her grand entrance and all eyes fixed on her, all mouths hung open and all voices whispered low about her wonderful outfit. She loved to have everybody's attention, be the star of the night and know that people were standing in line only to talk to her. It was practically what she lived for.
Before each party she would always mentally rehearse every look, word and gesture she was to do during the conversation. Although she seemed so spontaneous and natural, she had always everything perfectly planned and memorized and played mechanically even the slightest grin.
Just as she had expected, as soon as she crossed the threshold, the crowd was surrounding her, greeting, kissing, smiling like they hadn't seen her in years. Feeling like the empress herself, Isabella was completely forgotten of her father, her brother Rutger or Johanna who was, as usual, walking behind, shy and simple.
That night at Count Wigowsky's they were for a musical evening. Isabella was sure that at the end of the evening someone would ask her to sing as they used to do in almost every social event. This time, ostentating a generous sentiment which rarely appeared in her she was willing to let Johanna join her and show her mermaid voice too. She had to admit that she was cruelly ignoring her cousin and that, because of her, the others ignored her too. That night, however, she had decided to let Johanna share a little of her glory.
But she was to take care of it later. For the moment her first priority was to torment Anton with all her might. She knew she couldn't flirt with him or even go near him without ruining her reputation, but she knew that seeing her so dazzling and pretty would brake his heart (as if it wasn't already broken enough, but it was never enough for Isabella). So her plan was to stick to Terese, his new wife. Terese was always with Anton, so sticking to her was like sticking to him.
While she went to meet Terese and greeted everyone in the room, ostentating a likeableness and sweetness she was far from feeling, her eyes fell on a dark corner where a tall, brown-haired man stood lonely looking through the large window. His back was turning at the room so she couldn't see his face, but she was sure she didn't know him. She had never seen him before, so she assumed he was new in town, for she was always the first to meet everyone in Vienna. Well, she would take care of him later. If she should meet him he would be seeking her hand the very next day.
During the conversation with Terese she noticed that Anton never looked at her, tried not to speak to her and each time she smiled there was such a deep despair and misery in his eyes that Isabella thought she had never been more amused.
After spending almost a whole hour torturing the poor boy with her charming presence she left them quickly feeling that she couldn't hold her laughter any longer. She walked through the room smiling at herself, waving her fan carelessly and granting little conversations to people here and there, looking as lovely as she could, but always letting them notice that she was a lost cause.
When passing by the terrace she saw the stranger talking to Johanna and Rutger. Although he was her brother Isabella felt for Rutger a burning hatred and it was terribly annoying that every time they went out some where she had to pretend she loved him in front of the people. At that moment she didn't feel like showing nice to Rutger at all, so she preferred to wait till he was gone to go and meet the new gentleman. But she stood close to them and had a good look at her new victim.
It was clear that he wasn't a boy like Anton or Rutger. He appeared to be at least thirty years old. His features were cold and rigid, reflecting an extreme seriousity and his gray eyes had such a deep look that they seemed to trespass people like a knife. His Greek profile with a very straight nose, thick heavy brows and thin lips gave his face an expression of dignity and serenity. He stood cool and elegant with his head tilted and his hands behind his straightened back, majestic like a king.
Concentrated, guessing his social position, origin and possible personality. Anticipating the malicious pleasure of having him as her slave; wondering irritated when her stupid brother was going to leave them alone, Isabella didn't notice that she was looking at the man in a very indiscreet way, so intensely that he turned to her as if feeling her eyes hit him. Isabella blushed and went away quickly. She started talking to some girls in the other corner of the room, but as soon as Rutger and Johanna left the stranger, seized by a furious curiosity Isabella ran up to her cousin and launched her interrogatory:
"Who's that man you were talking to?"
"Herr Reiss. He's new in the city. Just arrived from Germany."
"Herr Reiss... Sounds interesting... What does he do?"
"He's a musician. He will play for tonight's recital."
"Musician?" all her interest vanished "I thought he was someone important."
"Oh, he's not just any musician. He's a great virtuoso. He is the most famous violin player in Germany, Italy and France. He is a master of violin, Uncle told me. They say he can play a sonata by heart just by hearing it...like Mozart." Isabella started to smile very slowly and her brows lifted as her interest in Herr Reiss was coming back to her. "So he is famous and genius... I think I do want to meet him after all."
"I'll introduce you after the recital. It is about to start. Will you sing at the end as usual?"
"I guess so. But tonight you are to sing with me, dear."
"Me? But I have never..."
"Hush!" Isabella smiled as she put one finger on Johanna's lips "It is time that you show your talent too, my dear cousin. I will not let you say no. Quiet now. The music will start."
The spectators sat down and the music started. Herr Reiss was, of course, the main player and though they were all performing pieces that Isabella knew very well, she felt that they sounded kind of different that time. There was something about Herr Reiss's playing indeed. He gave each note a special definition, a sentiment that no one until then had ever given to a simple sonata. Isabella herself had to admit that the man was really good for she was impressed and she was hard to impress.
Listening to that music, it was no longer a violin sonata. It was sentiment turned into sound. Isabella had never realized until that moment how beautiful this music was, since her taste was too earthy to appreciate beauty in something as simple as art.
For her little brain beauty was only about pretty girl faces, silk dresses, diamonds and jewels. Hardly she could sometimes see the beauty of flowers or nature. But she wasn't fond to music, paint, architecture or poetry. Although her trivial taste, this time she could feel something different about music. She sensed some of that beauty she never noticed in things she couldn't see. She was almost touched.
She looked sharply at Herr Reiss while he played. He was an interesting man after all. It would be fun to conquer his heart and try her sharp teeth on it. She started forming her plan. First she would impress him with her own musical talent... her voice... Heck! Why had she had this stupid idea of suggesting Johanna to sing with her that night? She wished she hadn't told her. Well, no bother. She didn't need talent. Beauty was enough.
When the play ended Herr Streicher, her father, went up to Herr Reiss to congratulate him. Isabella saw this as a chance to make her introduction.
"That was wonderful!" said Herr Streicher.
"Thank you," Herr Reiss kept emotionless and cold.
"Allow me to introduce to you," Streicher went on "My daughter," put a hand on her arm "Isabella Marie. I told you about her. Johanna's cousin."
"It is a great pleasure meeting you, Fräulein Streicher," he said with a gentle voice, yet he remained serious as always without smiling back at her "I supposed you would be as beautiful as your cousin but I see you're even more. You're a lucky man, Herr Streicher: you have the two most delightful girls in all Vienna."
Though it was intended to be a courteous compliment Isabella felt that she had never been so insulted in her whole life. Her smile erased as she stared in astonishment without believing her ears. He was comparing her with Johanna! He was saying that they were both the most beautiful girls! How dared he? She alone was the most beautiful girl in the world and he was supposed to forget about Johanna and forget about everyone when he spoke to her! He was supposed to be dazzled by her charm instead of talk so calmly like he was talking about the beauty of a sculpture. She made a pout and looked at him with disdain. But she forced a smile however and said cheerfully "Thank you." She couldn't say more. She was angry like only she could be. Swallowing her rage she turned around.
"Your performance was splendid, Herr Reiss." Johanna appeared. Isabella felt her anger grow when she approached. "Outstanding." She replied coldly trying to look nice. Reiss bowed "Thank you, ladies. I've been told that you too like music. Someone said to me that you will sing for us tonight." Isabella looked at her fan and didn't answer. Johanna spoke for both "Yes, we will." Isabella thought it was a good occasion to get Reiss's attention off Johanna and said cheerfully to her "I think it's time to do our performance, dear. Come along."
That night Isabella laid awake. She couldn't sleep. She felt burned up as she had never been before. She writhed in her bed while she looked at the moonlight that slipped through the gray-blue curtains. After that short interview she had with Herr Reiss he had just walked away and didn't speak to her anymore the whole evening. He had ignored her like a ghost. Worst of all he had had a long conversation with Johanna. It was far too insulting. She was furious! For the first time in her life Johanna had a man's attention and she didn't. For the first time someone had liked Johanna better. She wasn't about to let him get away with this. She was now determined to make him fall in love with her even if it was the last thing she did. He was going to fall so madly and desperately in love with her like no man ever fell before. He was going to suffer for her like no man had ever suffered for a woman.
