Short Story by: Kristen Shoates
Named after the Romkerhaller Wasserfall near Goslar Germany
Empress Agnes looked around the Imperial Palace one last time. One of Goslar's most intricate buildings, this had been her home for most of her life. It was where she had married her late husband, been sworn in as regent for her young son and where she and the bishop used to meet under the cover of darkness, a more illicit type of covenant.
And now she was about to make one more vow: to God, to sisterhood, to the simplicity of an abbey, in the heart of the Roman Empire over which she had ruled.
She and the church had been at odds for years. There was her meddling in papal politics, using the military when needed. The rumors of her affair and the sway the bishop had in her policies. And of course, the archbishop's coup, where he kidnapped her son and forced her out of power. At the time, it certainly hadn't helped that she was a woman; yet with the promise of humility and purity, she was surprisingly being welcomed back in.
But before she dedicated her life to heaven, she had one last worldly wish.
She snuck out to the hills outside the palace, where the moonlight reflected off the salty waterfall like the candles in the Cathedral. Here, she didn't have to be Empress or Sister or any of the names she'd worn during the years. For this night only, she was simply Agnes, this place her sacrament and the sound of rushing water her confession.
Tart, lemon, floral, and dry finish. Pairs well with hot days and especially with fish.