Polish Partition (4)
Four days before Franz and Friedrich turned back time to arrive in Dresden of Saxony.
Saxon Elector Augustus III learned that Poland-Lithuania had been split into three and handed over to Russia, Prussia, and Austria.
Along with the resolution that he had been deposed from the Polish throne.
"...Damn it, what the hell... What do I do? What the hell should I do...? This is gonna splash back on me, isn't it?"
Augustus III rounded up all his close aides and hounded them to analyze whether he had violated any imperial laws.
The conclusion they reached could be summed up in one phrase: 'If they want to pin something on you, they can.'
"First off, stepping down from the Polish throne doesn't violate imperial law. And the unpaid national debt was strictly Dresden's private bonds, so that doesn't breach imperial statutes either."
"R-really? Then what about the Poles converting to Protestantism and Orthodoxy...?"
"Under imperial law, forced conversions are illegal only when targeting imperial citizens. Poland and Lithuania aren't imperial citizens. That said... if they argue you invited foreign armies onto your lands, threatening imperial security, there's room to call it illegal."
"Wh-what? But Poland isn't even imperial territory...!"
"A threat's a threat—if it's on your nose, it's a nose ring; if it's on your ear, it's an earring."
He wanted to shout that it was nonsense, but on second thought, it made sense.
A massive Russian army marching into Lithuania would be a threat to the Empire all by itself.
"S-so... this wouldn't be enough to strip me of my electoral dignity, right?"
"..."
Elector’s chief minister, Count Brühl, could offer no reply.
Augustus III knew the reality all too well.
In the old days, they might scoff at pressuring an elector over something this minor, but this wasn't the old Empire anymore.
If Austria used this as an excuse and teamed up with Prussia to carve Saxony in half, who would object?
Not after Bavaria and the Palatinate had already been swallowed up.
"If I just apologize profusely and beg forgiveness...?"
"Franz might let it slide, but Friedrich's the wildcard. He's like a beast that never misses a chance to devour."
"True. Last time, he made it blatantly clear he intended to suck us dry until we withered away."
"In any case, if they claim all this chaos stems from Your Highness's blunders, they could legally trip you up... "
"Wait, what did you just say?"
Augustus III cut him off abruptly, and a bewildered Count Brühl responded.
"That they could legally trip you up...?"
"No, not that."
"The part about Your Highness's blunders causing this mess?"
"Yes. So the conclusion is that I botched things, giving Russia an excuse to march, which threatened imperial security...?"
Mulling it over, Augustus III suddenly had a brilliant epiphany, like divine revelation.
What if it hadn't been a blunder?
What if all of this had been planned from the start—a loyal act by Saxon Elector Augustus III?
It sounded insane, but this approach would absolutely save him.
Austria's Emperor and Franz could never punish him then.
Of course, pulling this off once would trash every ounce of his authority and dignity as elector, but at least he'd keep the title.
Plus, no more worrying about Prussia gobbling them up militarily anytime soon.
"Right. Better to be the Emperor's chamberlain than a fallen noble patriarch, no?"
"...Eh?"
"Count Brühl. Gather every document I specify from now on. And inform everyone that I'll personally oversee the welcoming ceremony."
"Understood."
Humans truly are mysterious creatures.
Why, even in modern times, counselors sometimes reassure you that you have infinite potential—you just haven't discovered it yet.
And indeed, even the most seemingly dim-witted person can pull off astonishing feats in a life-or-death crisis.
No one expected Augustus III to be the protagonist, though.
"...So, Your Electoral Highness is saying this whole affair was a 'gift' you planned?"
"Yes. I'm confident Your Highness was pleased."
He grinned so confidently it was almost convincing—like a stranger might actually buy it.
Friedrich, listening from the side, couldn't hide his disbelief and chimed in abruptly.
"Come now, Your Highness Augustus? This doesn't match what you told me at all last time."
"To deceive the enemy, you must first deceive your allies. My apologies. For the sake of Franz Highness and this Empire, I couldn't reveal the truth even to Your Majesty Friedrich."
"Hah... Well, I'll be."
Augustus III deliberately bowed his head in a public space, visible not just to Friedrich but to my confidants like Joseph too.
He was positioning himself as Austria's true loyalist, claiming it had all been premeditated. Surprisingly, it fit together rather neatly.
"I conceived this brilliant plan right when Franz Highness crushed the Bavarian Elector's rebellion and brought France to its knees in just six weeks! An achievement no Holy Roman Emperor had ever accomplished!"
"Hmm..."
"You know it well. It was utterly impossible without Franz Highness's revolutionary weapons—from one to ten, all his doing..."
Friedrich, don't fan the flames too—you're making it worse.
"As Your Majesty Friedrich says. Under Franz Highness's great leadership, our Empire will be holy once more! Roman once more! And stronger than ever—I have no doubt."
"I never expected to see eye-to-eye with Your Highness Augustus like this. Had you shown this side when I arrived, we'd have emptied the cellars through the night."
"Th-that was merely... as I mentioned earlier, a ploy to deceive allies first. No choice. But I never knew Your Majesty Friedrich held Franz Highness in such high regard."
"Sigh, Your Highness Augustus. You seem to have grasped Franz Highness's true nature only since the last war, but I'm different. I know him best of all, and no one can praise him more fittingly than I..."
"Ah, enough. This conversation's going nowhere. Your Majesty Friedrich, please stay quiet for a bit. Let's hear what Your Highness Augustus has to say."
Augustus was flat on his belly now, which was fine, but you can't flaunt your fandom like that in front of others yet.
Anyone watching would peg you as Franz Stefan's rabid personal fanboy, fueling suspicions we'd been conspiring from the start!
Is that what this is?
Like when hardcore fans chat about their idol, and a newbie newbie proudly spouts off—it twists your gut?
Augustus III seemed thrown by Friedrich's sudden acceleration, eyes darting before he regained composure and continued.
"A-anyway, that's when it hit me. Ah! How vast the gap between a wretch like me, fumbling even the Polish crown, and Franz Highness's caliber! If he claimed Poland's jewel-like black soils, he'd sprout wings and ascend to the heavens!"
"Well said."
"But handing Poland intact to Austria was impossible. Those Polish nobles—zero substance, all pride and greed—wouldn't listen. Yet! I was certain Franz Highness had already cooked a few by then."
"And so it was."
To sum it up bluntly: that was his pitch.
Augustus III had orchestrated everything from the start to gift me Poland.
"Wasn't this because you tried swallowing Poland whole, word leaked to Russia, sparking the uproar?"
"Common sense: could I possibly swallow all of Poland? I, Augustus, who couldn't even secure the throne succession and had to borrow Franz Highness's power?"
His self-deprecating pitch to boost credibility was a fresh tactic—no ready counter came to mind.
What do you say to 'No, I'm too inept for that'?
"So you deliberately invited Prussian, Austrian, and Russian armies into Poland?"
"Precisely. I figured the Potockis would flock to Franz Highness first."
"Why them?"
"They jumped ship to me the instant France lost the war. Bats? No—something beyond bats."
He had a point there.
Potocki were such opportunists that I could confidently lure them with full assurance.
Friedrich wouldn't know, so I gave him a quick rundown of Potocki's glorious betrayal history.
Originally pro-Swedish, they flipped to pro-Russian as Sweden waned and Russia rose, chanting 'Long live the Tsar!'
When France promised aid for the succession around then, they ditched Russia for pro-French, proclaiming Louis XV the savior of Poland.
The moment France fell, they joined me—the next Polish king, Saxon Elector Augustus III—stressing only love for Poland mattered.
And when Saxony seemed shaky, they shouted pro-Austrian, cheering 'Franz Highness rules!'
All in just 20 years.
Behind-the-back artistry that'd make even Lü Bu weep.
"...Can we trust those guys? They could betray us anytime."
"They're more sensitive to power's pendulum than anyone. As long as we're strong, they'll cling desperately. They have use, so we'll milk them for now."
You wouldn't entrust real power to chronic backstabbers anyway.
Exploit them moderately, nurture reliable locals, and gradually reshape the power structure.
"In any case, Your Highness Augustus—you toiled behind the scenes, so recognize my loyalty?"
"Yes! Your Highness will be the greatest Emperor ever! Augustus and Saxony will be your faithful companions, delivering even greater gains! Long live Franz Highness!"
You can't spit in a smiling face—and kicking a belly-up puppy? Impossible for anyone.
Moreover, doing this publicly, before my retinue, made it official: Augustus III had pledged fealty.
After this tear-jerking performance steeped in 'effort,' paying admission was only fair.
"Dresden is one of the Empire's few culturally thriving cities. Please continue supporting it, Your Electoral Highness."
"Thank you! I'll make Dresden a cultural hub rivaling Paris!"
He'd eyed Poland to secure his electorate anyway, so this roundabout path led to a happy ending, perhaps.
Sacrificing Poland to preserve his title.
Saxon Elector Augustus III: survival success.