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
But then, midshout, the lever was thrown, the gallows opened, and the man’s words were cut off with a crack. Franz tried not to flinch, but he could feel that noise in his bones, his toes, his fingertips. Attendants threw the other levers in turn, the other revolutionaries following their leader into death.
The crowd fell silent. The attendants stepped down from the platform.
It was over.
FIVE
BREATHE IN, BREATHE OUT.
Elisabeth stood outside the sitting room, repeating those words to herself and trying to calm her ragged breaths, the sick pounding of her heart. Puck was gone. Her nightgown was covered in grass stains and blood from holding him. Her face was tight with the salt of dried tears. And there was a ridiculous man behind this door who wanted to marry her. She’d started the day in good humor, despite it all, but she was too tired for that now.
Elisabeth stood in one of her favorite places in the house, all sweeping ceilings and stone steps stretching gently up to the second floor. The entryway was elegant in its simplicity, the one place her mother’s heavy fabrics and gold leaf hadn’t swallowed whimsy whole. The staircase’s wooden banister was carved with vines and roses, and slightly imperfect knots dotted the wood. It was like the outdoors had come dancing playfully inside. It usually comforted her. But today it felt oppressive: the entryway to a life she didn’t want.
She could hear her mother through the door. “Sisi will be here presently. Her morning prayers are so important to her.”
If she had the energy, Elisabeth would have rolled her eyes.
“This last summer has made her blossom and become even more mature. She is ready for marriage …”
Mother was babbling, as usual. Elisabeth hated how she had been reduced to whatever her mother thought a girl should be, not what she actually was. She wondered what it would take for her mother to call Elisabeth witty or wild or spontaneous. That kind of truth would probably make her mother’s ulcer explode on the spot.
“My daughter was blessed with a clever mind. But not too clever, of course.”
Elisabeth let out a weak, rueful exhalation.
“Above all else, she’s inconspicuous and will submit to your every will.”
Elisabeth turned away from the sitting room. Her mother could keep lying, but that didn’t mean she had to listen.
“Sisi!” Helene met her at the bottom of the staircase. “I think the duke is about to leave.”
Elisabeth took her older sister in slowly: her light hair perfectly pinned, her skin flushed pink, her dress well fitted in a playful yellow. A few months ago, Helene had hidden Elisabeth in a trunk when one of the counts came calling. But now she was firmly on Mother’s side. The side of duty, obligation. The loss carved into Elisabeth’s heart.