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see you again," he said.

    I stood straighter. From the way the man was dressed in a rumpled
shirt and without a wig, I would not have known he was royalty. Perhaps he'd only now awakened-though it was midafternoon.
    "You remember my family from our time in Vienna, don't
you?" Papa asked the prince.
    "Of course, of course," he said. "Greetings to you, Fran Mozart,
and to you, children."
    Mama and I curtsied, and after a poke to his back, Wolfie
bowed.
    "Are you here to perform for us?"
    "That is our wish," Papa said.
    The prince's eyebrows dipped. "Does the elector know you're
here?"
    "Not as yet."
    Prince Frederick stood erect and called someone over from
inside the room. We could overhear his instructions to the courtier.
"Go inform the elector the Mozart family is here, and ask if he
would like to hear the children perform."
    The prince leaned on the windowsill again. "Why don't you
stroll through the grounds and wait for a reply. I'm sure you'll be
sent for shortly"
    We said our good-byes, then walked away. Papa beamed. Wolfie
walked backward in front of us. "Do we get to play, Papa? Do we?"
    "Shh, child. And turn around!" He pulled Wolfie and me close,
one beneath each arm. "It appears God will bless our efforts. But we
must pray that what has been started ends in a desirable manner."
    I looked at Mama. She nodded once and bowed her head a bit
as we walked. Her lips moved and I knew she was already sending a
request to the Almighty. I did the same.
    God would hear us. He would help us make Papa happy.
    Papa never did much praying. Back in Salzburg, Mama and I
would join the other women in having masses said at particular altars
in particular churches-depending on the nature of our prayers. We
believed in miracles and fasting, and collected relics that were said to
have power. And Mama was constantly looking for signs from God.
We knew the Almighty was in charge and His will ruled over all.
    Even over Papa.

    "Eat, Nannerl," Mama said. "I know it's nearly midnight, but
you must eat so we can get to bed. It's been a long day."
    Too long.
    Soon after we had talked with the prince, a footman had
approached us with a message that we were to perform before Maximilian III Joseph, the elector of Bavaria, at eight that evening. I'd
been so excited.
    It turned out I could have stayed home.
    I pushed the plate of food away, knowing it was rude, knowing
the innkeeper's wife had made a special effort to get us something
to eat at this late hour. But I didn't care. The chance to play for
Maximilian in the palace was gone. For me. Gone for me.
    I watched as Wolfie slathered butter on his bread and ate ravenously. He'd worked up an appetite performing tonight. For the
entire concert had been his-except for two women who sang a
few songs. The rest of the time my brother played the violin and
clavier and created a constant stream of instant variations, making
the audience gasp and clap. Over and over they gasped and
clapped.
    For him.
    "I'm sorry they ran out of time," Mama said, patting my hand.
    Papa reached across the table and chucked me under my chin.
"No long faces. When a concert is going well, one does not change
direction and risk the disfavor of the audience."
    Wolfie put his feet up on his chair, his shins against the table. He
pulled his bread apart, shoving the pieces into his mouth. "I played
and played...."
    "Yes, you did," Mama said.
    I pushed my plate away and stood. "May I go to bed now? I'm
tired."
    Mama glanced at Papa. He motioned me over to his side. "We
are going to be in Munich awhile longer, Nannerl. Tomorrow night
the two of you . . ." He looked at Wolfie, then noticing his feet on
the chair, motioned for him to put them down. ". . . the two of you are to perform for Duke Clemons. And perhaps we can arrange
another concert for the elector." He pulled my hand to his lips and
kissed it. "I want all the world to hear the talent of my lovely daughter."

    I nodded, kissed Papa