Vienna was quiet under the pale spring sun, its streets still bearing the weight of recent defeat. The banners of France hung beside those of Austria—a symbol of peace born not of goodwill, but of exhaustion. In the grand Schönbrunn Palace, Empress Napoléonne stood before a tall mirror, her uniform replaced by a gown of imperial white and gold. She adjusted her gloves with a soldier’s precision rather than a bride’s grace.

The war of the Fifth Coalition was over. Francis of Austria had signed away his pride, his territories—and now, his son—to secure a fragile peace. Beyond the chamber doors, courtiers whispered of humiliation and compromise.

The door opened and the prince stepped in. She glanced at him through the mirror as he closed the door behind him. She could tell he was nervous for their first meeting for the betrothal. "Be not afraid. Austria and France are no longer at war. You are not my enemy."