She laid the telegram aside and rested her chin on her hand. From her window she could see the strutting soldiers. Ordinary men, dressed up for a war that didn't seem like it was going to go anywhere. The Anschluss had been a merry occasion. But then the last time Europe had been in disarray, the result had been devastating. She had been a youth when it had started, not yet old enough to wear her hair up but old enough to start to realise that society was hanging off its hinges, becoming shredded and worn, tearing away all the respectability and refinement while people sank into the gutter for sustenance. Her family had done better than so many others but the fall of the Austro-Hungarian empire had taken its toll on everyone. She'd come of age amidst this terrible mist, remembering of all things, the Faberge egg in her grandparent's cabinet. A symbol of past decadence. Gold and green, nothing would ever be as beautiful. It had been sold a few years after the war and she'd felt a wrench in her heart to no longer see it there.
In the same way, she now knew that she'd never see the von Trapps again.
She stole another look at the telegram. According to Max, Georg and his family had fled. By the skin of their teeth, it seemed. Over and away, maybe even past the sea. They could be anywhere by now. Maybe they were on a train within the mountains of Switzerland. They could be on a boat to America even. She wouldn't have risked it with such a large family but then she would have stayed regardless. She was a firm believer in better the devil you know. She was hardly thrilled by the march of the new order. She loved the old order, her world. Changes were afoot, the air had turned furtive with it. But her parents had to adjust when everything they had known had crashed in on them and she would have to do the same. For her turn, she would have to make sure to keep her wits about her and play neutral. She could do this. She'd made a pact with Max that whatever it took, they would make sure they would weather whatever was to happen next. Just to get out of this war unscathed.
She sighed. There was nothing left to mourn. Georg had claimed his bride and she was back in Vienna, once again alone in her villa. In her heart, she knew he'd chosen well. She never would have been satisfied playing stepmother to his children, no matter how much she liked him. Loved him. Even though it was likely to be her last chance, she couldn't have married him knowing that he would forever think of Maria. His attention had been slipping away from her soon after he'd met the woman. Her entrance had changed the von Trapp's world forever. And to be fair to him, if she had been in Georg's shoes, she would have made the same decision. According to Max, Maria had turned out to be worth more than diamonds. Quite a feat for the little novice nun.
Many years later, when she would sit in her morning room, the horrors of the war long past, chignon grey and wispy, eyes clouded over with cataracts, she'd remember them still.