Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: Traces of the Storm (2)
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No country was ignorant of the fact that India was Europe's most vital strategic resource.
It wasn't just about money.
At this time, Europe's real cash cow was sugar pouring in from Central and South America.
India's cotton textiles, spices, and tea were profitable commodities, to be sure, but they weren't quite the money-printing machines.
Yet Europe's eyes were bloodshot with desire to dominate India because of the overwhelming quantities of saltpeter flooding in from there.
Indian saltpeter might not generate immediate cash flow like sugar or silver, but without it, mass-producing gunpowder was impossible.
Regions like Bengal or Bihar—with their hot, humid climates, alkaline soils, and river transport networks—were unmatched anywhere else in India, or the world for that matter.
In short, saltpeter was the heart of warfare in this era.
The great European powers, from Britain and France onward, had built saltpeter factories in India not for a milk cow that squeezed out money, but for one that churned out shells.
But even if India was a goldmine, there were stark differences in scale.
Right now, Britain was naturally the most aggressive in expanding its foothold there, with France barely keeping pace.
Just looking at investment volumes, Britain was nearly double France's.
Portugal was in decline, the Netherlands on the downslope—so it was essentially a contest between Britain and France. And hadn't France just suffered a crushing defeat at Austria's hands?
At this rate, Britain would expand freely in India unchecked.
Moreover, Saint-Domingue—practically France's lifeline—was now exposed to Britain's threats.
If Britain truly deemed France a pushover, it wouldn't hesitate to snatch it all away.
That was the kind of nation Britain was.
"...Not just muskets—we'll need cannons too."
In the end, Louis XV had no choice.
At the very least, he needed the power to hold onto what he already had.
Handled well, he might even seize a bit more.
"France can surely produce that many cannons in a year or two, no?"
"We need new muskets too. Didn't your country eagerly ship us all the cannons they'd stockpiled over two campaigns? If you sell them cheap—even just some—we'll make it work."
It wasn't like they were asking for them back for free; if they bought them, there was no reason not to sell.
For them, buying cheap was better financially and temporally than manufacturing from scratch.
"Then I trust you've made your decision."
"You must keep your promise too."
"Your Majesty, I've never broken a promise. If anything, we should be the ones insisting. If you take the blueprints without fulfilling the deal, Versailles might actually burn next time. This isn't a joke."
Scams get answered with death.
Louis XV signed the secret agreement without protest.
It would never see the light of history's pages, but it at least gave France some breathing room.
"A wise choice."
"I hope so."
Convinced they'd gained a prime punching bag in France, Britain would swing freely within a few years.
Blissfully unaware that this sandbag was stuffed with stones instead of cotton.
"We'll send detailed specs, performance data, and tactical doctrines along with the musket blueprints."
A service for valued bulk buyers.
Here's hoping that 15-round-reinforced baguette dyes those English pirate bastards red before it breaks.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 📰 Breaking News The First-Ever Versailles Coronation in History. His Imperial Majesty's Glorious Victory! 📰 Breaking News What's Next for the King of Germany? Prince Franz: "I Will Raise Austria to the World's Mightiest Power." 📰 Breaking News The Frogs Who Begged Us to Leave Paris! Swayed by Our Grand Triumphal Parade, They Erupt in Cheers. "Newspapers! Just one copy, please!"
"Sorry, sir. They sold out at our coffeehouse two hours ago."
"Damn it all! Does anyone know what was in today's papers?"
"Perfect timing. There's a reading in the center over there."
No matter how far back you searched Holy Roman Empire history, had there ever been a victory this exhilarating?
After the six-week thrashing of France came news of the Paris triumph and Versailles coronation—Vienna was plunged into a frenzy of national pride.
Citizens hunted down anyone who could read newspapers, while the literate camped out at coffeehouses to snag copies first.
It wasn't just commoners.
The nobles left in Vienna waited daily for French dispatches, regretting not joining the march to Paris.
10 a.m.
The Hofburg Palace privy council chamber couldn't escape the mood either.
"Your Highness Theresa, petitions are flooding in to hold a triumph here in Vienna to commemorate His Imperial Majesty the Emperor and Prince Franz's great victory."
"Not that the councilors want to do it themselves, right?"
"Ahem, well, we do have those sentiments."
"Sorry to disappoint. I'm not alone anymore, so I can't leave Vienna."
"Not at all! We're honored to have Your Highness managing state affairs here. His Majesty trusts you and us—that's why he could go to Paris."
With Charles VI and Franz away, Theresa naturally handled Vienna's duties.
Though things had stabilized, her presiding over imperial councils in maternity gowns drew awe from countless nobles.
"Triumphs and coronations are fine, but fulfilling the tasks His Majesty entrusted to you comes first, no? Let's approve the exhibition supply plan for Bohemian glass and platinum jewelry. We'll issue special postwar industrial promotion bonds, prioritizing expansions at the Marien thal and Zwiesel workshops."
"No objections. But Your Highness, will the bonds sell that easily?"
"I'll handle that. Additionally, we'll allocate funds to establish cowpox stations empire-wide and mandate first vaccinations within three years. Most of Bavaria and Pfalz Electors' assets are confiscated—we'll divert some here. The Danube Trade Association has also taken hits from the war."
Even a six-week war froze the economy from the outset.
Newly joined Danube principalities were especially sensitive to such shocks.
"We'll temporarily cut tariffs by 30 percent until the ripples fade, with the crown absorbing losses."
"...Balkan nobles and merchants will love it, but is that alright? His Majesty and Your Highness..."
"It's already settled. Plenty of revenue streams incoming— this strikes the perfect generous pose.
Theresa's popularity in the Balkans was sky-high already; this policy would win overwhelming acclaim from nobles and merchants alike.
With her maids' help, she rose gracefully, finishing business so swiftly Franz's absence went unfelt.
Pregnant or not—especially because she was—she had vital tasks ahead.
3 p.m.
About thirty wives of great nobles, based in Vienna and Prague, gathered in a grand hall.
Chatting freely, they rose as one when Theresa appeared, naturally circling her.
Proximity to Theresa signaled hierarchy and their sway in Vienna's social scene.
Prussia's Princess Wilhelmina always claiming the seat beside her had every salon desperately courting her.
Theresa's every word could upend noble ladies' society.
"Your Highness Theresa~ Congratulations! How could the war end so swiftly? Against France, no less."
"I know. I just learned wars can wrap in six weeks."
"They say Versailles is stunning—Prince Franz must be thrilled. Though no matter its beauty, it can't match Hofburg's symbolism."
The salon opened to a barrage of flattery.
Theresa smiled lightly, brushing off the women vying for favor.
"I'm grateful for your words. Men fight outside, but without our steadfast support inside, they'd fight anxiously. In that sense, you're all heroes of this war."
"Oh, such gracious words."
"We pray daily for those on the front to return safe."
With a light opener, Theresa tapped her spoon softly on the table, whispering with a smile.
"Patriotism is vital. My husband Franz believes as long as the state doesn't abandon those who sacrificed for it, patriots will keep emerging. I agree."
"Such profound thoughts. A noble conviction."
"His Majesty plans to grant early postwar industrial bond subscribers priority investment rights in the Ostend Company. Seems he wants to identify patriotic houses beforehand."
She sipped tea elegantly, noting the ladies' eyes sharpen.
Of course, dropping it casually maximized impact—best to cut it short here.
"Oh, and when our Elisabeth or the child in my womb grows, they'll need education. It'd be nice if other children joined. Kids learn better together than alone, right?"
With that, she shifted to art and literature over tea and pastries.
But her few words rippled wildly through noble circles.
"Darling, buy postwar bonds next time—no matter what. Got it?"
"What? You went to tea and come back talking bonds...?"
"Early birds get His Majesty's priority on imperial ventures! You know their returns lately."
"...For real? Don't tell me you heard some rumor."
"From Your Highness Theresa herself. Casually over tea, but His Majesty plans to favor loyal, patriotic nobles!"
Nobles, armed with insider info from wives, flocked banks with cash. Theodor von Premer Bank and Moravia Silong Mines hit targets in one day.
Plus Theresa's hint on future crown princess/prince study partners.
"Darling! Isn't our child the same age as Princess Elisabeth?"
"They said 1-2 years difference is fine! Ours could be a candidate!"
"With Theresa and Franz's harmony, they'll have five or six kids. How many chances to bond with the imperial family? Stop wasting on stocks—invest here!"
Nobles eager to cozy up to the crown or dip into its ventures showed "patriotism" by opening purses wide.
Postwar Vienna brimmed with unprecedented vitality.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Not long after the triumphant Versailles coronation in Paris.
The Austrian army, still buzzing from victory, returned to their beloved homeland.
As hoped, a victory parade filled the day, with toasts all around.
But leaders must stay cool-headed, eyes on the future, especially now.
"The world's stunned by our win—time to rake in cash. Package it as postwar industrial bonds..."
"Uh, those sold out already?"
"...Huh?"
Theresa's bonds shattered records with 2.1 million gulden in one day—closed before I even reached Vienna.
I'd agonized over sales pitches to hype them; no need now.
My thoroughly sated angel spread her arms wide, beaming at dazed me.
"Welcome home, Franz. Good work."
Truly, I was the world's happiest man.