Franz sighed. There were many countesses at court, but only one of relevance: Louise. Franz’s former mistress, who—as it turned out—was actually in love with him.

He’d never meant to break her heart. And yet the wreckage lay in his hands.

“Let her in.” He stowed Puck’s hair in a little box in the oak writing desk, then turned as Louise walked in.

She was beautiful, as always, but this time Franz felt no desire, no draw. Nothing for her figure, cinched at the waist with a bodice like green scales. Nothing for the gold threads in her hair, accentuated by a black coat and a black hat to match. Nothing for her bright blue eyes, the delicate neck, the flutter of breath at the hollow of her throat.

If anything, he felt pity. She was a woman in mourning and looked the part, her clothes a dark cloud, her earrings shaped like battle-axes to ward off evil. The cheerfulness of his rooms—with their green-and-gold wallpaper, light wooden floors, the blue ceiling playful with baby angels—only made her look more unhappy.

“My emperor.” Her voice was still hopeful, and it scraped against him. He’d called it off as soon as he’d returned to Vienna, his heart only Elisabeth’s. And yet the months had done nothing to move Louise along. She wore her heartbreak like a gown.

“Countess, it’s not a good time.” He had nothing else to give her. He’d tried kindness. He’d tried explaining himself. And yet here she was, persistent.

“You haven’t answered my letters.”

“There wasn’t a reason to. It’s over. It’s been over.”

“You think you can simply discard me?”

As if it had been that easy. As if Louise had allowed it to be that easy.

Falling in love with Elisabeth had been easy. But Louise was used to getting what she wanted and avoiding her—with her heartsick looks and veiled threats about revealing their dalliance—that had been impossible.

“I made you a generous offer.” He said it knowing it wasn’t what she wanted. But it was how things were done. A way to say sorry, to acknowledge the depth of her regard.

She reached out and touched his hand with her gloved one. “You said you needed me.”

It hadn’t been a lie then. But it would be now. He wished she could understand that.

“Your Majesty.” Theo interrupted and Louise pulled her hand away, lowering her gaze to the diamond-patterned floor. “The imperial bride will arrive soon.”

Franz nodded, caught Louise’s eye, and hoped that this time she would understand that his heart was no longer available. It was taken, consumed, fully and wholly someone else’s.