“Now,” Mother said as they stepped out of the hot summer afternoon and into the cool of the marble entry, “the emperor is not here for idle chatter. So don’t ask him any personal questions. He is not interested in feelings. No womanish opinions or comments.”

Elisabeth’s heart twisted for her sister as Helene released her hand and stepped up to walk obediently beside Mother. What a contradiction it was: bringing Helene here to get to know the emperor and telling her to keep her thoughts to herself. Elisabeth hoped it wasn’t true that the emperor wasn’t interested in feelings. Asked to give up that part of herself, Elisabeth would disappear entirely. She didn’t think her sister was so different.

Less than an hour after arriving, the sisters were in the sauna, scrubbing the carriage ride off their skin. As Elisabeth ran a comb through Néné’s honeycomb hair, her sister fidgeted. Helene must be terribly nervous. Elisabeth was glad they were able to bathe just the two of them. She would take all the womanish opinions Helene wasn’t allowed to share with her future husband. Spill your secrets, Néné. Remember how we used to be, she thought.

“Careful, Sisi!” Helene pulled away as the comb caught on a knot.

“Sorry.” Elisabeth kissed Néné’s head in apology. “At least you’ll have a lady-in-waiting to do it for you soon.”

Helene gave a gentle laugh and the silence stretched comfortably around them. Elisabeth melted into it. She and Helene could still be close in these quiet moments, no expectations or engagements to drive them apart.

“What if I can’t stand him, Sisi?” Helene asked then, her voice the barest whisper.

Elisabeth harbored the same fear, but she wouldn’t allow Helene to worry about it. Helene was hopeful, and hope was precious.

“Well, I did hear he’s hairy all over, like a wild boar. And he likes it when ladies ruffle his fur. So, there’s your strategy to get him in a good mood.” Elisabeth’s face was deadpan when Helene turned to look at her.

A heartbeat, two, and then Helene let out a laugh, poked Elisabeth with her elbow, and made a noise that Elisabeth knew meant you’re not as witty as you think you are.

Elisabeth stuck out her tongue a little, winked.

Helene made a face back—the old Néné peeking out through the fancy facade. It reminded Elisabeth of when they were little, sitting in the garden plucking will-o’-the-wisps and blowing out their wishes. Each warned the other that if all the little seed parachutes didn’t blow away, the wish wouldn’t come true. Elisabeth’s favorite memory of that time was when Néné once stuffed a will-o’-the-wisp into her mouth to hide the evidence of a wish unfulfilled.