Mother turned to Helene. “We need to figure out what you’re going to wear for the emperor’s birthday tomorrow.”

Elisabeth let out a long, quiet breath and stopped walking. The last thing she wanted was to be roped into another panic about clothes or, worse, hairstyles. Her own hair was pleasantly escaping from its braids in a way that made her feel like a wild thing—a fox or falcon or fairy spirit.

“He barely wanted to know anything about me,” Helene said quietly. “He barely asked any questions.”

Elisabeth’s heart fluttered. She’d thought they’d looked engaged a few times, talking in low voices. But … had it not gone well? Was Franz’s heart not in it?

Mother waved a hand dismissively. “All he needs to know is that you’re pretty and polite. If he wants to learn something else, he can go to the library.”

Helene went quiet, and Elisabeth hoped that Mother’s foolish perspective was comforting to her. Even if it was terrible.

As her mother and sister turned a corner and began walking down another hallway, Elisabeth turned to a simple, whitewashed window and leaned on the sill. The gauzy white curtains billowed out around her in the light breeze, and she closed her eyes. She focused on the feel of the smooth wood against her palm, the fever-hot sun on her skin, the subtle rise and fall of her chest. She pictured the morning again. It’d been a string of serendipitous moments—with a man whom she couldn’t help but want to talk to again.

Mother’s voice echoed distantly down the hall. “This awful heat! How could anyone fall in love like this?”

It’s easy, Mother, Elisabeth thought. It’s easy and impossible all at once.

TWENTY

FRANZ HADN’T BEEN ALONE WITH HIS THOUGHTS FOR more than five minutes, hand cooling on the marble railing, birdsong calling to him through the open window, when Maxi found him in the stairwell.

“So, you’re going to marry the Bavarian sheep?” Maxi was tactless as ever.

“Not a good idea?”

“It is. She’s perfect for you. Not my taste, of course. Too …” He waved a hand in front of him, trying to find and pluck the right word from the air.

“Virtuous?” Franz suggested, needling.

“Predictable.”

Maxi meant it as an insult, but Franz didn’t rise to the fight. Instead, he reached over to touch his brother lightly on the back, inviting confidence. “Tell me more about your trip.”

Maxi raised an eyebrow. “Well, everything with your troops is fine. And the empire …” Something sparked in Maxi as he spoke, an aliveness Franz hadn’t seen from his brother in some time. Maxi turned and walked up the stairs backward in order to face Franz as he spoke. “Our empire is so exciting. The people are colorful and diverse.”

“I’m glad.”