Just as Liesel reached the next bend in her dream, the world around her flickered and melted away like ink in water. She blinked—and suddenly, she was back in her bedroom, sunlight streaming through the window.
Then it hit her. Today was the day.
The new governess was arriving.
Liesel groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. If this woman was anything like the others, she'd be strict, boring, and completely immune to any pranks or mischief. Friedrich and Louisa had been whispering all kinds of schemes the night before, and while she had scolded them to go to bed, she had to admit—she was curious to see how the woman would react.
A sharp knock on the door made her jump.
"Liesel, are you awake?" Louisa's voice was muffled through the wood.
"No, I'm still asleep," Liesel called back dryly.
Louisa giggled. "Well, you better wake up fast. She's arriving any minute!"
Liesel sighed, finally pushing herself out of bed. Outside, Emily, the wolf, let out a soft, drawn-out howl—not the eerie kind, but something that sounded almost…encouraging.
"Alright, alright," Liesel muttered, running a hand through her hair. "Let's see what this new governess is made of."Liesel hurried down the grand staircase, joining her siblings as they lined up in perfect formation, waiting for the telltale sound of the whistle. The anticipation was thick in the air—half excitement, half mischief. She caught Friedrich smirking out of the corner of her eye, and Louisa was barely suppressing a giggle. No doubt they were already planning their first prank.
Then, from upstairs, she heard her father's voice—sharp, clipped, formal.
And then, another voice—lighter, warmer, but with a quiet strength beneath it. Maria.
Liesel couldn't make out every word, but she caught just enough to know her father was being his usual commanding self, expecting strict obedience and order.
Maria, however, was not intimidated. Her responses were polite but firm, unwavering even in the face of the Captain's rigid authority.
Liesel raised an eyebrow. Interesting. Most governesses wilted like flowers under her father's gaze. But this one? She might be different.
She exchanged a glance with Louisa, who had clearly been listening too. The unspoken words between them were clear:
This might actually be fun.Liesel stood at attention as the piercing whistle rang through the house, summoning them like soldiers to the front lines. One by one, they fell into place, descending the grand staircase in perfect formation, their faces blank with well-practiced obedience. It was a routine drilled into them since they could remember, a performance they all knew by heart.
As Brigitta appeared at the top of the stairs, her nose was buried deep in a book—The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. Liesel smirked slightly. Trust Brigitta to choose literature over discipline.
Their father's eyes flicked up, sharp as ever. He reached out, plucked the book from Brigitta's hands without breaking stride, and gave her a light but firm tap on the back.
"When in uniform, you will focus on the task at hand," he instructed, his voice as crisp as his posture.
Brigitta huffed but said nothing, falling into step beside Liesel. She knew better than to argue.
Liesel glanced sideways at her sister and whispered, "You almost made it this time."
Brigitta sighed. "It was worth it."
And then, Maria stepped forward.
Liesel studied her with quiet curiosity. Dressed in plain clothes, with kind but observant eyes, she didn't carry herself like the governesses before her—those stiff, joyless women who left within weeks, exhausted by the Captain's demands.
No, Maria looked different.
Liesel wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
Liesel stood in line, something deep inside her stirred—a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time. Something was off.
It wasn't Maria herself, though the new governess certainly carried an air unlike the others. It wasn't the rigid formality of their father, either—she had long grown used to that. No, it was something else, something nameless, creeping up her spine like the whisper of an unfinished dream.
She swallowed, her fingers twitching at her sides. Why did she feel this way?
Maria stood before them now, her gaze warm, yet piercing. Not like the others, who either feared them or dismissed them. No, Maria was studying them—really seeing them.
Liesel suddenly felt exposed, as though this woman could see through the careful walls she'd built. The ones she relied on to keep her pain tucked away, to keep her longing buried beneath her duty as eldest.
Why does she look at me like that? Like she knows something?
Brigitta shifted beside her, subtly bumping Liesel's elbow, a silent question. Did she feel it too?
And then, as Maria smiled, a strange, knowing smile, the feeling was gone—like a breeze slipping through an open window before you can catch it.
But Liesel knew one thing for certain:
Everything was about to change.As each of the children stepped forward to introduce themselves, Liesel watched Maria closely.
"Liesl." She gave a small, polite nod before stepping back in line. She half-expected Maria to say something more, but the governess only offered a warm smile, as if she already knew more than Liesel had said.
One by one, the others followed. Friedrich, Louisa, Kurt, Brigitta, and Marta all stated their names with varying levels of enthusiasm. But when it came time for Gretel, the little girl marched forward, then back, then forward again like a tiny soldier.
The Captain's voice cut through the room like a sharp knife. "Gretel."
Gretel immediately stopped, standing at attention, looking up at Maria expectantly.
Maria's smile grew, clearly amused but not unkind.
The Captain turned back to Maria. "Now, Fraulein, you must learn their signals. Each child has a specific whistle call. That way, you may call them when needed."
Maria's expression shifted. Her smile faltered, replaced by something else—something steely, firm, unyielding.
She squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze directly. "I'm sorry, Captain, but I don't think that will be necessary."
The children froze, eyes darting between their father and Maria. No governess had ever questioned his methods before.
"They are children, not sailors on a ship," Maria continued, her voice unwavering. "I shall call them by their names."
The room held its breath. Liesel felt a flicker of admiration. No one ever stood up to her father.
The Captain's jaw tightened. "I see." His tone was clipped. "And what about my signal, Fraulein?"
Maria tilted her head slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You mean you don't have one?"
Before he could answer, she lifted the whistle to her lips and blew a sharp, piercing note.
The Captain stiffened. His entire body went rigid. His icy gaze snapped to Maria, and for a long moment, silence filled the room. The children barely dared to breathe.
Maria simply handed the whistle back to him, smiling sweetly.
Liesel watched her father's face. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held something—shock, annoyance, maybe even the slightest hint of something else. Amusement? No, impossible.
Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away.
As soon as he was out of sight, the tension shattered.
The children looked at one another, wide-eyed, barely able to contain their giggles. Liesel pressed a hand to her mouth, hiding her smirk.
This governess was unlike any they had ever had before.
And Liesel suddenly knew, without a doubt—Maria was going to turn their entire world upside down.Maria took a steadying breath as she faced the group of children who stood before her like little soldiers ready for battle. She smiled warmly, hands clasped before her. "Well, now that we've been properly introduced, I think it's only fair I tell you a little about myself."
Liesel crossed her arms, watching Maria with sharp, assessing eyes. She had seen governesses come and go. She didn't need another one.
Maria continued, "I have never been a governess before."
Immediately, the children exchanged looks. Louisa's eyes sparkled with mischief, and Kurt nudged Friedrich with his elbow. A new governess and an inexperienced one? This was going to be fun.
Maria caught the glances but pressed on. "But I am looking forward to learning and getting to know each of you."
Before anyone could respond, little Marta stepped forward, tugging on Maria's dress. "I'm Marta, and I'm going to be seven next Tuesday, and I'd like a pink parasol."
Maria smiled down at her. "Oh, I love pink. That sounds like a wonderful birthday gift."
Marta beamed, but Liesel rolled her eyes. She had little patience for the governess indulging her younger siblings so easily.
"Well, Fraulein," Friedrich spoke up, smirking. "There are a few things you should know about Father. He doesn't like singing in the house."
Louisa chimed in, "Or laughing."
Kurt added, "Or talking at the dinner table."
Maria raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Brigitta, who was normally the most honest, nodded solemnly. "He also hates when people wear the color blue."
Liesel watched the governess carefully. Would she fall for it?
Maria's expression didn't falter, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes. She nodded as if taking it all in seriously. "Well, I suppose I shall have to be very careful, then."
The children smirked to one another.
Liesel, however, took a step forward, her tone sharp. "I don't need a governess, Fraulein Maria. I can take care of myself. And my siblings."
Maria met her gaze with surprising gentleness. "I have no doubt that you can, Liesel. But that doesn't mean you have to do it alone."
Liesel's jaw tightened. She wouldn't let herself be softened by kind words.
Before Maria could say anything more, the Captain's whistle rang out. The children straightened automatically.
"Time for our daily hike," Friedrich announced.
Maria looked mildly surprised. "A hike?"
"Oh yes," Louisa said, barely concealing her excitement. "We go on long walks every day. It's Father's rule."
Maria, eager to prove herself, smiled. "Well, I do love a good walk."
The children exchanged devious glances.
As they made their way along the trail, the children spread out, keeping a careful watch on Maria's movements. Liesel knew exactly what was coming but said nothing.
Maria, unsuspecting, hummed lightly as she adjusted her skirt. Then—her hand brushed against something inside her pocket. Something cool. Something slimy.
She yelped, jumping back, reaching into her pocket and pulling out—a frog.
The children burst into laughter. Maria held the creature at arm's length, staring at it in shock before her lips pressed into a thin line.
Frau Schmidt, who had been observing from the path, gave a knowing smirk. "You're lucky, Fraulein. With Fraulein Helga, it was a snake."
Maria sighed and dropped the frog onto the ground, where it happily hopped away.
She dusted off her hands, then turned to the children, who were still giggling.
"Well," Maria said, straightening her shoulders. "That was very cleverly done. I'll have to remember to check my pockets from now on."
Liesel narrowed her eyes. Most governesses would have stormed off in a huff by now. This one wasn't rattled so easily.
For the first time, Liesel felt something unexpected—curiosity.
Maybe, just maybe, this governess was the children walked further along the trail, their laughter echoed through the trees, still reveling in the prank they had pulled on Fraulein Maria. The sheer shock on her face when she discovered the frog had been priceless.
Friedrich wiped a tear from his eye, chuckling. "Did you see how high she jumped? I thought she was going to run all the way back to the abbey!"
Louisa grinned. "She handled it better than Fraulein Helga did, though. Remember how she screamed when she found the snake?"
Kurt smirked. "We have to come up with something even better."
As they discussed their future pranks, a silent shadow moved through the trees, keeping perfect pace with them.
Liesel glanced back, her sharp eyes catching sight of Emily—the large white wolf—walking just beyond the brush, her silver fur nearly glowing against the greenery.
The others followed Liesel's gaze, but they weren't startled. They had grown used to Emily's presence in the last two days.
Marta clutched Gretel's hand. "She's still following us."
"She's not following," Liesel corrected gently. "She's watching over us."
It had only been two days since they first encountered the wolf. Two days since she emerged from the woods, silent and knowing, as though she had been waiting for them.
Unlike their late mother's beloved dogs, Emily was not a gift, nor was she a pet. She had chosen them.
At first, they had been wary. A wolf was not something to be trusted easily. But Emily had shown no aggression—only patience, only watchfulness.
Even Friedrich, who had been the most skeptical, had to admit, there was something different about her.
Brigitta frowned thoughtfully. "Do you think she knows where she came from?"
"She must belong to someone," Kurt reasoned.
Liesel shook her head. "She belongs to no one. She goes where she chooses."
Louisa, who had been quietly watching the wolf, smirked. "Maybe we should introduce her to Fraulein Maria."
That idea sent a wave of giggles through the group.
"She'd probably run all the way back to Nonnberg," Friedrich teased.
"We'll save that prank for later," Liesel decided with a small, mischievous grin. "For now, let's focus on the next one."
And so, as they hiked through the lush hills of Austria, the Von Trapp children plotted their next great mischief—all while Emily padded along beside them, silent as a whisper, ever-watchful.
As the children returned from their hike, still buzzing with ideas for their next prank, Liesel lingered behind. She had grown accustomed to keeping an ear out for anything of interest, and as they neared the house, she caught the hushed voices of Fraulein Maria and Frau Schmidt coming from the side garden.
Curious, she slowed her steps, staying out of sight behind a pillar near the terrace.
"…How many governesses have there been?" Maria asked, a mix of disbelief and concern in her voice.
Frau Schmidt sighed, adjusting the apron over her dress. "Too many to count."
Maria let out a small laugh, but it was uneasy. "That bad?"
"The last one jumped out the window in the middle of the night. Screaming."
Liesel had to press a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. That must have been the snake… or the bees, she thought.
Maria, however, gasped. "Oh dear! Was she hurt?"
"No, she landed in the rose bushes, ran straight down the road, and never looked back," Frau Schmidt replied with dry amusement.
Maria sighed. "I can see why. The captain… he's—" She hesitated. "He's very… stern."
Frau Schmidt nodded knowingly. "He was not always like this, you know."
Liesel leaned in slightly, her breath catching.
"He was a good man," Frau Schmidt continued. "Still is, I think. But ever since his wife passed… he hasn't been the same. The laughter, the music, the warmth—it all left with her."
Maria was quiet for a long moment. "And the children?" she asked softly.
Frau Schmidt sighed again. "They remind him of her. So he distances himself. Runs the house like a ship because it is easier than facing the pain."
Liesel's heart clenched.
She had always known her father had changed after their mother's death—how could he not?—but hearing it put into words like this… it felt different.
She had spent so long resenting the distance, the rules, the way he hardly ever smiled anymore. But for the first time, she wondered—was it really just his way of coping?
Maria's voice was gentle. "Maybe what this house needs… is a little warmth again."
Liesel felt something shift inside her.
Maybe, just maybe… Fraulein Maria wasn't as hopeless as she had as Liesel was about to slip away unnoticed, a soft gust of wind rustled through the terrace, carrying the scent of the lake and fresh pine. Emily, the great white wolf, padded up beside her, silent as a ghost. She had a way of appearing out of nowhere, her icy blue eyes full of knowing.
Liesel gave the wolf a glance, then looked back toward the two women. Maria was still speaking, her voice thoughtful.
"I don't believe anyone truly forgets how to love," she said. "They just… need a reason to remember."
Liesel swallowed, something heavy settling in her chest. She had spent so much time believing her father didn't care—believing he had chosen to be distant. But if it was really just a way to keep from hurting, then…
Maybe she had been wrong.
Emily nudged her hand gently with her nose, and Liesel absently ran her fingers through the wolf's thick fur.
For the first time in a long while, she wasn't sure if she wanted to pull a prank at the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting long golden shadows across the grand dining hall, dinner proceeded as usual—or at least, it should have.
The table was set to perfection, the silverware polished, the glasses filled just right. The children sat neatly in their seats, backs straight, hands poised just as their father had trained them. They were, after all, Von Trapps. They had rules, structure, discipline. And tonight, they had a new governess to torment.
Liesel had been prepared for a typical evening—her father's stern voice giving orders, the quiet clatter of utensils, the rigid silence that often filled the house since their mother had passed. But Maria had already proven she wasn't going to be like the others. She wasn't storming out in frustration. She wasn't fleeing in terror like the one who had jumped out of the window in the dead of night. No, this one had a spine. And, if Liesel was honest with herself, she wasn't sure how to feel about that.
The pinecone incident had gone off without a hitch. As soon as Maria had sat down, she had leapt up with a startled gasp, just as expected. But what followed… was not expected at all.
Instead of calling them out, instead of scolding them or ratting them out to the captain, Maria had simply smiled—a small, knowing smile, as if she had been let in on some great secret.
"And I must thank you all," she said, looking around at them, her voice light and sweet, "for the lovely gift you left for me earlier."
Liesel froze, fork poised mid-air.
The others went equally still. Friedrich shot a quick glance toward Louisa. Kurt stiffened. Even Marta and Gretel, too young to fully understand what was happening, seemed to sense a shift in the air.
The captain, completely unaware of the undercurrents running through his dining table, merely raised an eyebrow and continued cutting his meat. "Gift?" he repeated, his tone sharp and clipped.
Maria folded her hands primly in her lap and tilted her head with an innocent expression. "Oh yes. It was meant to be a secret… between the children and me."
A dangerous pause.
Liesel's heart pounded. What was this woman doing? Why wasn't she angry? Why wasn't she telling on them? Why was she smiling like that?
"Well," the captain finally said, setting his utensils down with deliberate precision. "I suggest you keep it."
Maria inclined her head politely. "Of course, Captain." Then, as if the matter was already settled, she picked up her fork and knife and took a small, delicate bite of food.
Liesel felt a flicker of unease.
And then, Maria spoke again.
"It really was such a kind thing to do," she said lightly, her voice carrying an air of gentle gratitude. "Imagine how it feels, coming somewhere new. A new home, new faces, new rules. It can be quite… overwhelming."
Liesel stiffened.
Maria sighed softly, setting down her fork. "It's a wonderful thing, truly, to feel so welcomed."
The words, so kind, so understanding, felt like a tiny dagger slipping between Liesel's ribs.
The table, which had been brimming with mischievous energy mere moments ago, had gone eerily still. The younger children fidgeted. Louisa dropped her gaze to her plate. Kurt swallowed hard. Even Friedrich, who usually prided himself on remaining unfazed, suddenly seemed less sure of himself.
Maria's voice remained gentle, steady. "I know how difficult it can be, letting someone new into your lives. I can only imagine how much you must love your mother, how much you must miss her every day."
And that was when the first crack appeared.
A small sniffle.
Marta, eyes brimming with tears, blinked rapidly, as if trying to hold them back.
The room, once full of quiet defiance, was now tense with something far more fragile.
Maria smiled softly. "She must have been a wonderful woman to raise such thoughtful, considerate children."
Another sniffle. Louder this time.
Then a whimper.
A fork clattered against a plate.
Louisa's lips trembled. Kurt's hand twitched. Even Gretel, barely understanding the weight of what had just been said, let out a tiny hiccupping sob.
Liesel clenched her napkin in her lap, her knuckles turning white.
And then—
Marta burst into full-on tears.
The captain, who had been steadily cutting his food throughout the entire exchange, finally looked up, exasperation flickering across his features. "Whatever is the matter, Marta?"
"Nothing," Marta squeaked between sniffles.
And then, as if all at once, the floodgates burst open.
Marta let out a loud, hiccupping sob, followed immediately by Gretel, who, seeing her older sister cry, decided she must cry too. Louisa wiped at her eyes. Kurt rubbed his nose fiercely, trying to stifle his own sniffling. Friedrich looked as if he wanted to sink into the floor.
The captain's gaze swept across the table, his brow furrowing. "Fraülein…" he said, turning toward Maria, his voice heavy with strained patience. "Is it to be at every meal, or merely at dinnertime that you intend leading us all through this rare and wonderful new world of indigestion?"
Maria, perfectly composed, simply smiled. "Oh no, sir," she said sweetly. "They're just… very happy."
At those words, the children erupted into even louder sobs.
Liesel pressed her fingers against her temples, exhaling sharply.
This woman is impossible.
As the dining room settled into an uneasy quiet, the only sounds remaining were the occasional sniffles of the younger children and the soft clinking of silverware. The captain, ever composed, had resumed his meal with a firm set to his jaw, as though willing himself to ignore the emotional upheaval Maria had just wrought upon his household.
It was then that the doors to the dining hall opened, and Franz entered, his posture as stiff and formal as ever. He cleared his throat.
"A telegram for you, sir," he announced, stepping forward and handing the small envelope to the captain.
The captain took it without a word, unfolding the paper and scanning its contents. His expression remained unreadable, but Liesel had long learned to watch for the smallest shifts in his demeanor—the slight narrowing of his eyes, the subtle tightening of his lips. Whatever was written on that telegram, she suspected she wouldn't like it.
From the head of the table, she lifted her gaze toward Franz. "Who delivered it?"
Franz, barely sparing her a glance, replied, "That young boy, Rolfe, of course."
Liesel's stomach flipped.
She fought to keep her voice steady as she pushed back her chair. "May I be excused?"
The captain, still absorbed in the telegram, barely acknowledged her as he waved a hand dismissively. Franz, ever indulgent when it came to the eldest Von Trapp child, simply nodded.
Liesel rose swiftly from the table, slipping out of the dining hall without another word, ignoring the curious glances of her siblings.
As soon as she was gone, the captain sighed, lowering the telegram slightly. He looked around at the expectant faces of his children—some still red-eyed, some hopeful, all watching him closely.
"I will be leaving for Vienna tomorrow morning," he announced, his voice as measured as ever.
The response was immediate.
A collective groan rippled through the table.
"Not again!" Friedrich muttered under his breath.
"Must you always go away?" Louisa sighed dramatically, slumping against the back of her chair.
Gretel pouted. "You just got back."
The captain's jaw tightened ever so slightly, but instead of scolding them, he merely reached for his glass of wine. He didn't need to say anything—his silence was enough to end the discussion.
Across the table, Maria watched the exchange quietly, a knowing softness in her expression.
She was beginning to see now.
The children didn't just act out because they were mischievous.
They acted out because they were lonely.The dining table erupted into murmurs as the children processed their father's words.
"Vienna again?" Kurt groaned. "He just got back."
"Why does he always have to leave?" Brigitta muttered, stabbing at her food with her fork.
Louisa, always eager to stir the pot, leaned in conspiratorially. "I know why," she said, her voice tinged with mischief. "It's because of the Baroness von Schröder."
Friedrich shot her a sharp look. "Louisa, mind your own business."
Louisa merely smirked, undeterred. "She's beautiful, and rich, and terribly sophisticated," she continued, twirling her fork between her fingers. "And she has her eye on Father."
A hush fell over the table as the other children exchanged wide-eyed glances. They all looked toward their father expectantly.
The captain set down his fork and dabbed his mouth with his napkin before leveling a gaze at his children. "Yes," he said simply. "It is to see the Baroness."
A few jaws dropped. Even Louisa seemed surprised that he had admitted it so plainly.
"And," the captain continued, glancing around at their stunned expressions, "you will all have the opportunity to meet her when she arrives here in a few days."
The table erupted.
"She's coming here?" Marta's eyes went round as saucers.
"To this house?" Brigitta sounded almost offended.
"When?" Friedrich asked, trying to sound indifferent but failing.
The captain merely took another sip of his wine, ignoring the chaos he had just unleashed.
Before anyone could question him further, he added, almost as an afterthought, "Uncle Max is coming as well."
At this, the children's groans turned to cheers.
"Uncle Max?!"
"Really?"
"When is he getting here?"
"Tomorrow evening."
Marta clapped her hands together excitedly. "Uncle Max always brings us sweets!"
"And tells the best stories," Kurt added.
"And lets us stay up late," Gretel piped in.
"Too late," the captain muttered under his breath, but it was lost beneath the children's excitement.
For the first time all evening, there was genuine joy in the air. Even Maria, watching quietly from her place at the table, couldn't help but smile.