Before she reached him, her heart bumped into a wall of shock. The priest was there, just now stepping into the small circle with Franz and Sophie, pontificating. “A war can also be something meaningful, Highness. It gets the rabble off the streets.”

Franz looked as sour as Elisabeth felt. He answered, slow and measured, “War is a last resort, Your Excellency—not a pastime.”

Sophie, eyeing the two men shrewdly, diffused the tension. “And we will give the people new hope tomorrow, in any case, will we not?” She smiled at Elisabeth, her gaze going motherly again.

Franz smiled then, just a hint at the corner of his mouth, as he reached for Elisabeth’s hand and kissed it—holding it slightly longer than was proper.

“I assume you met the imperial bride, Your Excellency?” Sophie drew Elisabeth’s gaze back to the horrible priest in his horrible violet cap. Her stomach turned again at the sight of him, her whole body tensing.

“We’ve had the pleasure, yes, Your Highness.” He nodded at her, happy—as if this afternoon hadn’t even happened. As if she would be glad to see him again.

He puffed out his chest. “I had the honor of determining the lady’s innocence this afternoon.”

“Wonderful.” Sophie’s tone was relaxed, as if this were a perfectly normal conversation.

Elisabeth pressed her fingernails into the palm of her hand, fist matching tight jaw matching tight heart.

The priest couldn’t read her. He smiled wider. “It gives me pleasure to tell you, Your Majesty, that nothing stands in the way of an heir to the throne.”

It was dizzying all over again, being discussed like she wasn’t in the room. Or like she was a thing—in the room but incapable of her own feelings or reactions. A piece of furniture. A machine. A thing here to make a baby, nothing more.

Maxi chose that moment to join the group, sipping Champagne and looking curious. Franz nodded his head at the priest in a way that Elisabeth couldn’t quite decipher. And Sophie lifted a glass, still shockingly cheerful. It was one thing for the men in the circle to act like the exam was nothing; it was another for Sophie—who had likely endured it herself—to call it wonderful. Wonderful. The word was a weapon. Confusing after Sophie had been so tender with her earlier and the hint of confidence just now.

The anger underneath the hurt slipped free as Elisabeth met the priest’s gaze. “I’m glad at least it gave you some pleasure.”

“Elisabeth.” The word was a gasp as Sophie’s expression dropped to shock. “His Excellency was just doing his duty.”