“If I rule the empire and you rule me, you already are.”

She laughed, but the word scraped against her. It was the word, the title, that Helene had wanted. Helene who was now refusing to speak to her, look at her. How was it possible to be so perfectly happy and so unbearably sad all at once?

“I think I’ve lost my sister,” she confessed, running a finger along his collar.

“She’ll come around. She just needs time.”

He didn’t know Helene, though. Not really. He’d only met the polite, obedient version of her. Elisabeth knew all of her versions, including the one who could hold a grudge. It worried Elisabeth even through the thrill of each stolen moment with Franz.

She buried her face in his neck, breathed him in. The warmth, the steadiness of him nudged away the scraping fear, cleared her head. Perhaps he was right. Helene couldn’t stay angry with her forever. They’d loved each other for too long, been allies almost since the day Elisabeth was born. These last few months wouldn’t define their relationship; Elisabeth wouldn’t let them. She couldn’t expect Helene to tuck the hurt away just yet. It was too fresh. But give it a few days, a week, a month, and they’d find their way back to each other. Elisabeth would keep reaching toward her until Helene felt like reaching back.

The curtain suddenly swung away to reveal a pinch-faced Esterházy with a hand on one hip, her other fist clenched around the curtain. Her expression fell when she saw Franz, and her hand dropped from her hip as she curtsied. “My apologies, Your Majesty. The duchess’s family is waiting for her.”

Elisabeth supposed the woman must have thought she was hiding back there alone. She wondered what had given her away: A rogue toe poking out from the curtain? A too-loud whisper?

Elisabeth pulled back reluctantly. It would be months until they saw each other again. She almost laughed at how she’d longed for those months only hours ago, thinking they’d be a time for forgetting. Now they’d be a time of unbearable waiting. And Elisabeth had never been good at waiting.

Her whole body felt the loss of his as they stepped out from behind the curtain, stepped apart. He held on to the edges of her fingers even as she started to walk away.

When Elisabeth made it to Mother’s rooms, Helene was standing by the window, resolutely staring across the grounds.

Mother flapped toward her, all anxious energy. “Sisi, the carriages are waiting. It’s time.”

Elisabeth sighed, her skin still aching for Franz’s.

“We have to get going. Are you ready?” Her mother waved impatiently at her. “You, an empress. I never imagined.”