The silence, and the intimacy it held, left her breathless. Her eyes caught on his and she couldn’t look away. But then, unbidden, Helene’s peaceful sleeping face flashed into her mind, guilt hot on its heels, and Elisabeth came back to her senses. You aren’t supposed to be doing this. She stood suddenly, and Franz followed. “I must get back before she realizes I’m gone. I shouldn’t have come.”

Elisabeth started to turn, but Franz’s voice caught on her heart and held her in place. “Stay.” It was request framed as command. “Please.” So much longing for such a small word. So many things unsaid in between the letters.

She turned back to him. He at least deserved the truth. “I promised not to mess anything up this weekend.”

“It’s too late for that,” he whispered.

He was so close to her now, eyes caught on hers. One step closer, and she could reach across the space and—

Touch his face.

Trace his lips.

Feel the strength of muscled shoulders under her hands.

She’d never been so aware of her own breathing: every breath that passed across her sensitive lips, every rise and fall of her chest.

But the joy, the thrill of it, flickered into cold, dark guilt. What about her sister? What about the promise she’d made? Elisabeth’s legs were ready to turn, to run back to the room. But her heart held her firmly in place.

“I have to go, Your Majesty.”

“Can we dispense with the formalities, Elisabeth?”

Her name in his mouth was a holy thing, a true thing.

He handed her the Champagne flute she’d abandoned when she’d started to leave. “That is your name, isn’t it?”

She took it, pressed uncertain fingers to the stem. “Yes, I just haven’t heard it in a while.”

She sipped the Champagne. They said it was like drinking stars, and she could see why. The sip was a hundred stars shooting through the heavens, and so was the moment—the look in the eyes of the man across from her. She set down her flute, and he followed her lead.

“You reminded me of something today,” he said. “You reminded me of what I was like before I became emperor.”

“And what were you like?”

“Alive,” he said, smiling fully now. His face held nothing back.

Oh, how Elisabeth’s heart longed to join in, to hold nothing back. But Helene tugged at her still, and Elisabeth shook her head ever so slightly as Franz stepped toward her. “No. No, we can’t. You’re going to marry my sister. That’s what they’ve arranged.”

Still, Elisabeth didn’t go. Didn’t run. Didn’t leave. Couldn’t quite betray her sister and couldn’t quite betray her heart.

His eyes searched hers. “But I want you.”

The words were simple. An impossible truth.