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Back The Empress Save as PDF
Chapters (68)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1853
  4. PART I
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. 1854
  42. PART II
  43. THIRTY-SEVEN
  44. THIRTY-EIGHT
  45. THIRTY-NINE
  46. FORTY
  47. FORTY-ONE
  48. FORTY-TWO
  49. FORTY-THREE
  50. FORTY-FOUR
  51. FORTY-FIVE
  52. FORTY-SIX
  53. FORTY-SEVEN
  54. FORTY-EIGHT
  55. FORTY-NINE
  56. FIFTY
  57. FIFTY-ONE
  58. FIFTY-TWO
  59. FIFTY-THREE
  60. FIFTY-FOUR
  61. FIFTY-FIVE
  62. FIFTY-SIX
  63. FIFTY-SEVEN
  64. FIFTY-EIGHT
  65. FIFTY-NINE
  66. SIXTY
  67. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  68. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

There was no spark, no gasp, no goose bumps. No recognition soul to soul. And it was the absence of that spark that brought her back to herself. Reminded her what she and Franz had.

Something magical.

Something unmatched.

“No.” She pushed Maxi away.

Hurt flashed across his face. Elisabeth had never seen a man so diminished. Like he was a small boy who’d lost his last friend, a sailor marooned on a lonely island.

A heartbeat passed, then another. And then a curtain dropped over his pain so fast and so fully she thought she must have imagined it. Now you see a boy who loves you; now you don’t. And he won’t. And he never did. She blinked twice, kept her hand up between them, pressed against the warmth of his arm.

“You should see your face.” He laughed. “You thought I was serious?”

He wanted her to feel foolish, she knew. But instead she felt sad for him. Covering up your hurt with a dart aimed at someone else’s heart wasn’t a strength. It was a weakness. A mask. A lie.

“You’ve never felt true love, have you?” She said it with pity. And then, “I love your brother.”

“And yet”—he leaned in again, this time no longer tender—“you’re still here.”

He reached for her one more time, and this time she stood. He was right. Franz wasn’t coming, and it was time for Elisabeth to leave.

FIFTY-SEVEN

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HELENE WAS TWO DRINKS IN AND WATCHING SISI FROM across the room, trying to sort through her emotions. The bitterness and anger were still there, but so was the worry that had taken root when she’d stumbled upon Maxi earlier. The protectiveness she used to feel for Sisi all the time crept around the edges of her rage. And so did an old fondness. For her drunken, laughing, twirling sister, who looked so much like herself here. All messy hair and unguarded joy.

Helene had been watching her sister for an hour now. Watching as she soaked in the piano music. Watching as she danced. Watching as Maxi had come up behind Helene, leaning over her shoulder and whispering in her ear, “I know how it feels to be passed over.”

Helene had moved a half step away, lifted her martini glass like a shield, her confused heart tripping over the words. Maxi made her nervous, especially after what she’d overheard. But the words themselves had been a thing she wished someone would say to her, a small comfort.

“It would be nice if people would stop avoiding me,” she’d admitted, guarded.