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
Her heart sped up at the thought. Franz. Who’d laughed like she was charm itself. She wondered what he’d be like on this second meeting, surrounded by all the pomp and circumstance that the palace—and her mother—provided. She wondered how she’d feel when she saw him again, then chided herself for even wondering. It was Helene’s feelings that mattered. She was the one he was going to marry.
The sound of footsteps caught Elisabeth by surprise. She was almost to the sitting room where they were supposed to meet the imperial family, but someone was coming around the corner from the opposite direction. On impulse, embarrassed by her lateness, she scrambled to the nearest window, folding herself inside a deep purple curtain.
The footsteps stopped nearby, and shame tingled hot across Elisabeth’s face. Why had she hidden? She needed to get to the sitting room immediately, but if she emerged from the curtain now, whoever was out there would know she’d been hiding. She’d look like a real fool. A madwoman, even.
From outside the curtain, a feminine voice spoke in Italian. Elisabeth was glad for her lessons. She knew just enough to understand. “Imagine when I tell everyone back in Venice that I celebrated the emperor’s birthday with him! They’ll die of shock!”
Curious, Elisabeth peeked around the curtain. The speaker was an olive-skinned woman who looked only a little older than Helene, her dark eyes bright with excitement, smile all-encompassing, Next to her, a short man with tousled blond hair and dramatic sideburns looked on with nonchalant disinterest, his navy coat unbuttoned with the kind of casualness that was usually on purpose in Elisabeth’s experience. She couldn’t decide if it was appealing or dangerous.
The man yawned and started to turn to face her hiding place. Elisabeth ducked back behind the curtain, heart fluttering. Was her introduction to every person here going to be her hiding and being found out? This time with no bird to blame her behavior on.
The footsteps continued and Elisabeth chanced another glance around the curtain. The couple was standing at the bottom of a nearby staircase, waiting. And Elisabeth’s breath hitched in her chest when she saw who they were waiting for.
Archduchess Sophie: dark eyed, dark haired, snow white, with a heart-shaped birthmark at the corner of one perfect eyebrow, just like the portraits Elisabeth had seen. Her dress was the kind that would make Mother swoon: an airy yellow blouse with steel-blue, hand-embroidered flowers at the ends of the sleeves and collar.