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Johanna picked up a hairbrush and began to comb Hannah’s hair into a severe knot that pulled at her face. Hannah was beginning to feel like a doll, dressed up in ribbons and lace, unable to move without someone pushing her limbs into place.

“Do you understand all that I have instructed you?” Lady Schmertach asked. “Have you any questions about how to conduct yourself this evening?”

“No.” She understood perfectly well that she was to remain exactly in her chair and to keep a full distance from the royal family.

“Good. Graf von Reischor has informed me that your cousins will arrive shortly to escort you back to Germany.” With a prim smile, she rose from her chair. “I hope you enjoy the queen’s hospitality this evening.”

Hannah’s temples ached from the tight hairpins, and she ordered Johanna and Estelle to leave her alone. When they had gone, she stripped away every pin until her hair hung down below her shoulders.

What is the matter with me? she wondered. Why can’t I tell them what it is I really want? The words of protest seemed weighted down by years of obedience.

There was a soft knock on the door. Hannah called out for them to enter, expecting one of the maids to return.

Instead, Michael stepped inside. He closed the door behind him, seemingly surprised to find her alone.

Hannah stood, wondering if she was supposed to curtsy before him. He hadn’t changed his clothing from this morning, and his cravat hung crooked at his throat as if he’d tugged at it. She resisted the urge to correct it. “Was there something you needed?”

His dark gaze fixed upon her. “Yes. There’s something I needed.”

All the blood seemed to rush to her face, and prickles rose up on her skin. Whether it was nerves or simply the intense awareness of Michael, she didn’t know. She forced herself to sit down.

“The Graf gave you the chance to leave, earlier today,” he began. “But you didn’t take it. Why?”

She drew on one of her gloves. “Because I promised I would stay here for a few days longer. To help you grow accustomed to your new life here.”

“Is that the only reason?”

No. I didn’t want to leave you. “What other reason would there be?”

His gaze swept over her gown, but he made no comment. “I saw that Viscount Brentford and his family are here.”

“Yes, I spoke with him and Miss Nelson.” She grimaced. “Although they don’t know you’re the real prince. I suppose it doesn’t matter whether it’s you or Fürst Karl. And it won’t be the last time you’ll be pursued by eager fathers and daughters.”

“Does it bother you?” He folded his arms across his chest.

Of course it bothered her. But she couldn’t do anything about it. “What do you expect me to say? That I’m jealous?” Her shield of calm collapsed into pieces. It wasn’t women like Miss Nelson who bothered her. No, it was the soldier’s mask that never revealed a hint of Michael’s feelings.

“No. You wouldn’t be, would you?” he responded. “I can see that you’ve made your decision already.”

She crossed the room and stood in front of him.

“What decision? What decision have I ever been allowed to make? You’ve already made up your mind about me and what you think I want.

Just as Estelle and Johanna have decided what I’ll wear and how my hair should be arranged.

And Graf von Reischor has decided that I’ll be returning home to my cousins. ”

She rose from her chair and crossed the room toward him. With a not-so-gentle push, she said, “My decisions don’t seem to matter in the least, so why bother asking?”

He caught her in his arms. “Because I don’t believe what you told me this morning.” He tilted her face to his, their mouths the barest breath apart. “I don’t know which is worse...forcing you to live a life you don’t want...or letting you go.”

His hazel eyes were full of desire, his mouth achingly close to kissing hers. God help her, she needed him so much. Being without him was going to rip her heart apart.

“Make your decision, Hannah.” He pressed the ring into her palm. “Either become my princess in truth. Or leave.”

He withdrew from her embrace, walking away. When the door closed behind him, she stared down at her rose gown. She didn’t care for the color nor did she want to wear the pearls Estelle had chosen.

She hated herself and what she had become. And then her gaze fell upon a list Estelle had made, detailing everything Lady Schmertach had instructed.

Whether it was a list of reminders or a list of orders, Hannah didn’t care. She tore the paper into tiny pieces, ripping apart all the expectations.

This was her life, was it not? If she wished to wear violet, she could. If she wanted to wear her hair down, as scandalous as it was, who were the servants to tell her otherwise?

The years of fettered isolation were drowning her. She didn’t know if she could stand living in this isolated, rigid palace of rules. But there was one thing she wanted more than anything in the world, one man worth fighting for.

She slid the aquamarine-and-diamond ring upon her finger and threw open the door to her room. Picking up her skirts, she raced down the hall. When she rounded the corner, she nearly crashed into Michael.

He caught her before she fell, his hazel eyes questioning. Hannah didn’t speak a word, but took his hand in hers, leading him back to her bedchamber. Once they were inside, she turned the key in the lock.

“What do you want?” he asked. His eyes stared hard at the ring upon her hand.

“I don’t want to wear this gown tonight,” she answered. “Or these pearls.” She reached behind her neck, fumbling with the clasp. Her hands were shaking, her heart pounding in her chest.

Michael came up behind her, his warm hands resting on her nape. With the flick of his thumb, he unfastened the necklace.

“Now the dress,” she ordered. “Help me. Please.” She wanted his hands upon her, removing all the layers between them.

I don’t care that this is wrong. I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.

But Michael took his time unfastening the dozens of buttons, his fingers touching her with unbearable slowness. With each release, her skin erupted with goosebumps. She was waiting for him to kiss her, but he held himself back.

Hannah removed her petticoats, standing before him in her corset and undergarments.

“Am I to play your lady’s maid?” he murmured.

“No. You’re going to play my husband.” She reached up to kiss him, and their mouths came together in a heated frenzy.

He stripped off his coat, and she helped him with his waistcoat and shirt until his chest was bared to her.

Hannah kissed his skin, moving her mouth over his pectoral muscles, the marbled skin that was everything she wanted.

He unfastened her corset, turning her to the wall as he unlaced her stays. His hands cupped her breasts, pushing away more clothing until both of them were naked. Her palms pressed against the wallpaper and behind her, he moved close so that his erect shaft slid between her open thighs.

With his fingertips, he teased her breasts. His mouth moved over her shoulders and down her spine until he eased the tip of himself inside her slick heat, from behind.

She bloomed with moisture, aching for him. As he slid deeper, he murmured, “This isn’t the proper way to make love to a lady.” With himself still inside her, he guided her to move towards the sofa, leaning over the side. She cried out with exquisite pleasure as he filled her from behind.

“I don’t care about what’s proper any more,” she breathed. “Just be with me now.”

He withdrew, then penetrated her again. “I am at your command.”