Chapters (68)
- Cover
- Dedication
- 1853
- PART I
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- 1854
- PART II
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- FIFTY
- FIFTY-ONE
- FIFTY-TWO
- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
After her own heart? The words wrapped around Helene like a hug. After months of being ignored, being shuffled off to the side, it was a relief to be seen. If things had gone according to plan, this woman would be her mother-in-law. Yet another thing Sisi had stolen from her.
Sophie lifted Sisi’s diary from the bag, and Helene’s heart sank. So, the diary was in there. Helene handing the bag to Esterházy had been a greater betrayal than she’d realized.
As Sophie thumbed through the pages, tracing an elegant finger along the poems, moving the feathers Sisi used as bookmarks carefully aside, discomfort worried at the edges of Helene’s heart. Sisi never let anyone but Helene read her poems. She’d be so hurt to know that Sophie was staring at them now, so much more hurt to know Helene was allowing it.
But Sisi hadn’t cared about Helene’s hurt. Why should Helene care about hers now? The fact that she did care made her even angrier. She wished she could just hate Sisi without the love constantly trying to fight its way back in.
Esterházy now had a book in hand. The Sorrows of Young Werther—a story about unrequited love. Helene wanted to laugh. As if Sisi knew what unrequited love was.
Esterházy tossed the book aside. “Did I tell you that she interrupted the fitting? And did you see how she greeted His Majesty?”
The memory cut at Helene. Both of them had looked so happy. Sisi had thrown herself into his arms. He’d looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.
“You have forgotten what it’s like to be in love, Countess,” Sophie answered, closing the diary. “And you already know my decision on the matter: my son has chosen his bride, and I will no longer fight him. We cannot change his mind. What we can do, will do, is ensure she becomes the empress we all need. You’ll be firm with her about protocols, as will I. But we don’t need to gossip about her failings in order to do that.”
How Sisi would hate it—being forced to follow protocol at every turn. Helene’s conflicted heart both worried for her and felt that it served her right.
“Helene,” Sophie continued, looking at Helene now, “I brought you here because I wanted to tell you that you would have made a stunning empress. I hope you know that.”
The flush of approval was back, warming Helene’s shivering soul. It was everything she wanted someone to say to her. Everything she’d been longing to hear for months now. You would be a good empress. You deserved it. You are good. You are—
Lovable.
Loved.
Important.
Helene tried to bury her guilt in the comfort of those words.
FORTY-NINE
