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father explains, “and a second ceremony will be held in Paris.”
    My heart races. “But his divorce—”
    “Is to be announced tomorrow. This contract will not be public knowledge until the new year.”
    Then there’s hope! Perhaps in three months the French emperor will change his mind. Perhaps he will find a Russian who is more to his liking. But my father sees the look on my face and shakes his head.
    “Maria, this emperor is not like your mother.” Who could change her mind three times in a day. “He looks to marry the great-niece of Marie-Antoinette.”
    I had thought myself fortunate to be a Hapsburg princess. I was wrong.
    “He will wish to change your name,” Prince Metternich warns. “The Empress Joséphine was once Rose de Beauharnais. And he will want to choose your outfits,” the prince continues. “He is very particular about what his women—”
    “This is ridiculous!” Adam Neipperg shouts, and the longing I feel for him is unbearable. I will never hold him again, never touch his face or run my fingers through his hair. “What does it matter what she wears?”
    “Perhaps it doesn’t,” Metternich says hotly. “But these are not my rules. If you don’t like them, I suggest you speak with the French emperor.”
    “Am I allowed to bathe myself, at least?”
    Metternich sighs, and this is the first time I have seen him appear at all sympathetic. “He will be a difficult man to please, Your Highness.He is stubborn and jealous and filled with ambition. But he is also a visionary. That should be something.”
    But it isn’t.

    I N THE HALL outside the Council Chamber, Adam remains after the others have gone. “You can refuse this,” he tells me, leaning close to my ear, and I am touched that he thinks I am worth fighting a war over.
    “I am no Helen of Troy,” I say. “This is my father’s crown. The Empire of Austria is everything to him.”
    “And there’s no reason to believe he wouldn’t keep it.”
    “Except the Treaty of Pressburg and the Treaty of Schönbrunn,” I answer, naming our two previous defeats against the “Modern Alexander.”
    “Trust me, Maria.” He reaches out to take my hand and I blush to hear him use my Christian name. “Your father and I will come for you.”
    But I must not believe such promises. Next week I will be nineteen, and more likely than not, I shall pass every future birthday in France. I swallow against the tightness in my throat. “Thank you, Adam.”
    “This is not an idle promise,” he swears. “We will come for you.” He squeezes my hand. “That is a vow.”

C HAPTER 5

    PAULINE BONAPARTE, PRINCESS BORGHESE

    Tuileries Palace, Paris
“ Pauline Bonaparte was as beautiful as it was possible to be.… She was in love with herself alone, and her sole occupation was with pleasure .”
—PRINCE METTERNICH, AUSTRIAN STATESMAN
    I LEAN TOWARD MY MIRROR AND MARVEL THAT NONE OF the pain shows in my face. My stomach has been cramping since dawn, and though the doctors insist that an “excess of nightly passion” is to blame, I know it isn’t true. This is something more. But ill or not, I will look my best tonight.
    I arrange my hair around my face, and try to imagine how I shall look in Joséphine’s crown once my brother acknowledges that I should be queen. Of course, the design will have to be altered. Or perhaps I will use the Egyptian crown he gave me. I would never want to be seen in anything she wore, although diamonds and sapphires have always suited me.
    “What do you think?” I turn to face Paul and hold up two gowns, one in cerulean blue, the other in bright cerise.
    “The blue,” he says. “This isn’t a ball.”
    I toss the blue back into my commode and put on the deep red; it’s more festive. “You’re wrong, you know. There’ll be dancing tonight. He sent out invitations.” My chamberlain thinks Joséphine walks on water. Sweet Joséphine, charming Joséphine. Was she sweet when she cuckolded my brother the