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“You may have faith in me, Your Majesty.” Margaret swallowed over her rough and scratched-up throat, which still tasted miserably of its earlier exertions. “I only ever publish my findings when it comes to supernatural, not political, matters...and even then, only when they can do no harm.”

“Yes. We’ve heard tell of your more private, recent endeavors.” He nodded politely to Margaret’s husband, though he didn’t move his gaze from her. “Your new center for research sounds a startlingly radical venture.”

“But a most necessary cause,” Lord Riven said smoothly. “As you know, there are many supernatural creatures across the continent who could benefit from better understanding of their natures...even in those parts of the world where it may not be safe to make their own truths more openly known.”

“Indeed.” Releasing Margaret’s gaze, Emperor Florian turned fully to her husband. “So you do understand, then, why such secrecy is necessary...and thus, why your recent line of questioning has caused such a flurry of concern within our own court?”

“Secrecy won’t be necessary forever,” Margaret said fiercely. “It can’t. The more that knowledge spreads, the more understanding will too. The fact that so much bigotry exists now doesn’t mean it will last forever!”

“Let us hope that you’re correct.” For a long moment, Florian looked from one to the other without speaking. Finally, he lowered his chin in a nod. “In that case, we have a mutual understanding. No more disruptive questions will be asked where they can be overheard and cause unrest. Nothing learned here will be spread to the wider world without our express permission...

“And in return, we believe that discreet support from many of our nobles may well be directed very shortly towards your venture in the Black Forest for all of those who need it. Moreover, Lady Riven, as a gesture of my own personal appreciation...” As his gaze met hers for a final time, his lips gave an almost imperceptible twitch. “Perhaps you’d care for a proper visitor’s card to our court library? One which would allow you to access all of its deepest archives...without any need for a disguise this time?”

Goodness. How much did he know about what happened all around him in this city?

“I should like that beyond anything, Your Majesty.” Margaret beamed at him, forgetting all her physical aches and pains at that glorious prospect. “And I assume you’ll be wanting your grandfather’s cloak of invisibility back?”

It was no wonder Napoleon Bonaparte had had such infamous success with his espionage, when his spies had had such a useful artifact on their side!

...And it was, of course, that cloak that the emperor had personally retrieved from the library’s deepest archives when he’d given the librarians that shocking order not to record what had been taken, for the first time ever. In public, he’d been forced to deny her requests for help. Privately, though, he’d been on her side of the investigation all this time.

“Only once Madame Amalie has finished using it.” He dipped his head once more, this time directing his nod past Margaret to where the still-cloaked lorelei stood. “We look forward to enjoying her next public performance...and the assurance of a long and satisfactory position at our state opera house along with her own continued discretion.”

“Your Majesty.” Three voices murmured his title in submission as he scooped up the Wand of the Woods from the chair where it lay, tucked it calmly within his own elegant jacket, and left the room with no hurry nor any visible signs that he had been affected by anything that passed there.

Of all the illusions in Vienna’s high society, the emperor himself was the most complex.

When the door finally closed behind him, Margaret let out an explosive sigh and slumped back in her chair. “There! We’ve all survived it after all.”

“Some of us with rather more trouble than others.” Lord Riven’s voice was a dangerous purr. “Are you ready yet, my dear, to tell me exactly why you sound so hoarse—or why you can’t lift yourself from that chair?”

“I think I’d better wait until later, actually.” Margaret narrowed her eyes warningly at him. “You can’t risk attacking Metternich now. That would undo all the good work we’ve done tonight—and by now he’s probably halfway to the real ruler of this empire, wherever in this maze of a palace she may be hidden!”

“It’s still incredible to me.” Removing the cloak at last, Amalie shook her head slowly. “The whole world believes that she stepped down as empress all those years ago, and her chancellor with her...”

“One more Viennese illusion for the sake of satisfying the revolutionaries, while the two of them continued behind the scenes. Between her refusal to allow the empire ever to change and his cunning schemes to get her way...” Margaret shook her head.

If she’d ever wished that the late Queen Anne of Britain had made Maria Theresia’s choice, that wish was now firmly rescinded. No matter how disappointing her current king might be, his mother—who’d pushed through such powerful changes during her lifetime—had been wiser by far to allow her own kingdom the possibility of more evolution after her death. “So many layers of different social illusions and requirements just to make everyone feel safe!”

“And yet you saw through them all in the end.” Lord Riven still looked tense, but his lips softened into a rueful smile. “My brilliant wife! I always knew you’d solve this mystery.”

“I only wish I hadn’t had to waste so much of our time doing it.” She let out another unhappy sigh. “It all feels so unnecessary. Considering the emperor knew all along what was happening...”

“But he couldn’t be seen to stand against the empress’s wishes as she is his senior partner on the throne. So, he relied upon you to be his champion instead.”

“And upon you and Amalie,” Margaret pointed out. “After all, you two were the ones who worked out tonight’s performance. On my own, I would have simply hurled accusations across the ballroom the other night and caused an international scandal. You were the ones who worked out how to reveal the truth in just the right way to ensure he’d be publicly forced to rid himself of Metternich without openly disobeying his ancestress.”

“And now,” said Lord Riven, “we may all hope that he will succeed in the peace talks he wished for and she did not.” Turning, he bowed deeply to Amalie. “Madam, you’ve been of invaluable assistance to us as well as to the continent as a whole—and you have my own personal gratitude tonight for risking your position to protect my wife. If there is ever any way for me to repay your kindness, I hope you will let me know.”

“Thank you, Lord Riven, but that is quite unnecessary.” Amalie curtsied gracefully. “With the emperor’s assurance that my position is secure, there is no favor to be repaid. I came tonight of my own accord, for the sake of my own respect for your wife and the work she is doing.”

“But it won’t be the last we see of you, I hope?” Margaret leaned over the arm of her chair to look up at Amalie. “I do know you’re tied here geographically, but...until Lord Riven and I can visit again, may I write to you?”

Amalie’s green-flecked eyes widened notably. “Would you wish to? I’m no scholar to aid you in your work.”

“But every supernatural deserves access to the information we gather. You were the one who reminded me of that in the first place when we spoke at the konditorei! We must find a way to circulate our knowledge in private amongst all of those who need it, even if they aren’t of the nobility or can’t travel to visit the Black Forest for other reasons. And even beyond all of that...”

Margaret drew a deep breath for courage as she prepared to take her most personally daring risk of the night. “You are a friend—or at least, I’d very much like you to be one.” It took all her strength to push against the critical voices she’d heard in childhood and in so many ballrooms across the years. She’d been so certain, when she’d first arrived in Vienna, that she wouldn’t make any friends here...