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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

Franz stood from his chair and pulled her, naked, against him, her nipples hard against his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt. He kissed her neck, her skin sweet under his lips, his tongue. He needed to lose himself in her.

When he moved to her mouth, she was ready, pliant, opening herself to him. She kissed him long and slow and nipped at his lip with her teeth—a reminder that she wasn’t all soft edges. His body ached for her, his clothes so restrictive now. But he wouldn’t take her yet. He knew how to please her, loved the sounds she made whenever he did.

He laid her down on the bearskin.

“Will I lose you?” she whispered. But the question wasn’t a worry; it was a command.

“Every emperor has an empress,” he answered, keeping her gaze. “That’s how it is. It won’t change.” Then he kissed his way across neck, shoulder blades, and breasts, moving lower until she stopped asking questions and started trying to catch her breath.

EIGHT

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HELENE’S APPEARANCE WAS CAREFULLY CONSTRUCTED: her blouse white silk covered by a pale pink jacket that complemented her skin tone. Her skirt, hand embroidered, curved gently outward, as did the puffed ends of her sleeves. Her hat sat atop fashionable braids, a deep purple ribbon drawing the eye up to it. She felt pretty, vibrant, a jumble of excitement and nerves that she couldn’t quite tease out from each other. If the emperor arrived at the villa before them, she’d be ready to greet him, perfectly poised.

To all the world, Sisi was also the picture of true nobility. Her hair perfectly styled with elaborate braids circling her ears, eyebrows plucked. She was wearing a white blouse, a large black-and-white bow at her neckline, and a striped jacket to match. Ankles crossed as she sat facing Helene in the gently rocking carriage.

But Helene could see what their mother couldn’t; Sisi had kept pieces of herself in the places Mother hadn’t thought to look. A braid of Puck’s clipped under her hair, a spot of mud just above the ankle from when Sisi had stepped into the garden before they departed. Helene’s heart was hopeful that this signaled a kind of compromise. Sisi could keep her quirks, just as long as the world never saw them. Especially Mother, who was asleep, chin pressed against her sunshine-yellow coat, hat tilting precariously against the window.

The carriage made a reassuring crunch across the gravel road as Helene stared down at a small portrait of Franz—her soon-to-be betrothed—sent with Sophie’s latest letter. She traced a nervous finger along his face. What would it look like in person? Less stony, surely. Warmer when he looked at her. Unless he didn’t like her.

Oh God, what if he didn’t like her?