Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 038
Chapter Title: To Berlin (2)
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The news that Franz Stefan himself was coming to Berlin reached Friedrich Wilhelm I swiftly.
In truth, he hadn't expected the man to come in person. He'd figured some proxy would show up at most.
Come to think of it, this Franz fellow had a knack for defying expectations in the strangest ways.
At first, he'd laughed off the idea of a guy who might one day succeed Charles VI as emperor peddling trinkets.
Then, when word came that he was meddling in the Ostend Company's operations, he'd dismissed it as the emperor just marrying off his money-making machine-in-law.
But the kid had boosted Bohemia’s glass industry in a single year, and now he was roping in Saxony, Bavaria, and the Palatinate to take a swing at France's mirror monopoly.
He'd used those profits to found a military academy and, at the youngest age ever in Austria, muscled his way into the Privy Council.
"And now he's coming all the way to Berlin to negotiate with me..."
"He's no ordinary talent, that's for sure."
The response came from Prussia's foreign minister, Heinrich Rüdiger von Ilgen.
The man was over seventy, well past retirement age, but at the king's request, he'd agreed to advise on this treaty.
"Bringing Bartenshtein along means he intends to wrap up our stalled talks decisively, right?"
"Yes. Your Majesty and Franz Stefan will handle the big picture, while Bartenshtein and I sort out the details."
"I'm curious if he lives up to the hype... or falls short."
Friedrich Wilhelm had no intention of underestimating his opponent.
That said, he wasn't worried about reading the mind of some twenty-year-old kid next year.
This wasn't arrogance—it was the natural confidence of a man who knew his worth.
"Shall we start with Crown Prince Friedrich? He might have gleaned some useful intel."
"Good idea. And since we know so little about the guy, set up a dinner too."
Given the guest's status, sitting him at the table with Prussian royals wouldn't raise eyebrows.
"Should I... make sure the food is a bit more lavish?"
Wilhelm's usual meals were stingy affairs, embarrassing for a king if anyone found out.
But you couldn't serve that to a foreign VIP.
Grasping Heinrich's point, Wilhelm clicked his tongue lightly and nodded.
"Wasteful, but necessary. Nail this treaty, and we'll rake in far more than a few dinner plates cost."
"The Duchy of Berg is our top priority, then?"
"Obviously. Charles VI keeps promising support, but he dodges every request for official papers with excuses."
Hard to believe an emperor could be that petty, but he might weasel out later without proof.
So, he hoped this young Franz was a step up from the emperor.
'He's got some real savvy, but negotiating with him should be easier than dealing with slimy diplomats.'
He never imagined bargaining with someone barely old enough to be his son, but it changed nothing.
Spot the opponent's angles, concede just enough, and drive his own home hard.
Wilhelm trusted himself. He wouldn't dance to some pup's tune.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The road to Berlin was smooth and uneventful.
The only memorable hiccup was Theresia throwing another fit, begging the emperor to let her come along—but he shut her down cold.
She declared she wouldn't eat with Charles VI until I returned, and he issued an imperial decree for me to hurry back once business was done.
Still, the journey wasn't boring.
With more alone time with Friedrich, we had plenty of deep talks.
I bombarded him with 132 reasons why Prussia and Austria should team up, and he opened up in return.
"Truth is, my father doesn't like Austria much. He might not be too warm to Your Highness either, so please don't take it personally."
"The Elector seems reasonable. I trust he'll prioritize the national interest."
"He'd better. He preaches it daily—imagine the hypocrisy if he didn't follow his own advice."
"Uh... yeah."
Now he was badmouthing his dad right to my face. Tricky spot.
Anyone who's spent time in society knows: never egg on family bashing.
Even bitter feuds follow "if anyone's dissing, it's me" logic. Best to just listen sympathetically.
"The carriage noise drowns us out anyway. So don't worry if talks with Father stall—I'll be the next Elector."
This wild fastball had me stumped.
"...Wouldn't it be smart to build positive ties now? He's still healthy; he could last years."
"Sigh... true. Meaning my sister and I endure that face a while longer."
"......"
"Of course, saying this outside makes me the villain. But my sister told me: once Father passes, she'll mourn just the legal minimum, then throw a celebration. Hard to believe? She means it."
I knew. Memories of that infamous "firecracker filial impiety party" that shocked Europe's courts don't fade easy.
But from what I'd heard, they'd at least observed the mourning period properly.
"Still, I'd like to foster goodwill with the Elector now. Immediate mutual gains could take all our time, no need to wait for the distant future."
"I'll help however I can. But openly taking your side would get me slapped—'Whose side are you on?' So, subtle support only. Understood?"
The dizzying chat about the crown prince staying mum to avoid Daddy's slap continued.
Father chain-smokes, acts faster with fists than words, beats kids, aides, even commoners if they displease him.
Hard to imagine, but apparently true.
"...I've heard Crown Prince Friedrich's toughened up lately. Wouldn't that satisfy the Elector?"
"The beatings have dropped noticeably. But they're ongoing. Now he's roasting my little brother August instead."
"Isn't Prince August just five?"
"Turned five this year. Blasts gunshots to make the kid a 'strong soldier,' smacks his palms if he botches drills... that's Father."
Put myself in those shoes? I'd probably swing a demon sword blind and seize the throne.
Listening on, it sounded like anger issues. He wouldn't hit me, right?
That'd spark war—Wilhelm wasn't mad enough for that.
Though Friedrich painted him unhinged, he was harsh equally: family, soldiers, all. Wait, that's worse.
But our positions let us give each other what we wanted.
No point in bad blood—we'd keep it cordial.
I'd brought tools for that. Now, just pray Wilhelm was reasonable.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Fortune or misfortune?
Prussia's king and Brandenburg Elector, Friedrich Wilhelm, was cooler-headed than expected.
I arrived to a grand welcome, then got invited to the royal family dinner the next evening.
Friedrich and Wilhelmina ate silently, forks clicking. Wilhelm greeted me with an intellectual poise that made "violent dad" unimaginable.
"Austria's youngest Privy Councilor? I wondered what sort you'd be—turns out, far handsomer than rumored."
"Thank you. But Crown Prince Friedrich here is the epitome of manly vigor. Haha."
"If only his personality matched. Nothing like Your Highness, standing on your own merits already. This one's got a long way."
"Nonsense. Our trip chats showed his military insight dwarfs mine—I was in awe the whole way."
As we buttered each other up, a servant brought a bottle.
"I rarely drink, but for a guest like you, one brandy seems fitting. Thoughts?"
"How could I refuse the Elector's offer? Cheers."
Clink.
The clear chime of glasses—we downed our first lightly.
Lousy ring. Not Bohemian crystal, huh.
When Friedrich's king, I'd swap every glass and mirror in this palace for Bohemian.
Anyway, vibe was good. Time to unveil my gift for Wilhelm.
I opened the package.
"A small token for Your Highness."
"Hoho... no need for gifts... Oh? A tobacco pipe?"
"Yes. Latest model—I customized it myself. Unique worldwide. Metal screw for easy disassembly and cleaning, reduced heat conduction, bitterness minimized. Your smoking will feel worlds better."
He hated wasting money on peasant tobacco, the miser. But free top-tier pipe? Jackpot.
"Unbelievable gift. Heard you were handy, but pipe upgrades? Do you smoke much?"
"Not incapable. Tried plenty."
Past life, occasional; modern, chain-smoker.
But since returning to Theresia, no more. Planned to stay healthy this life—no leaving her first.
Though I'd join occasionally if needed.
He nodded approvingly at my frankness.
"Next time, let's smoke one and dive deep. Haha, this hits so right—feeling tipsy already."
Once he tries it, he'll float on clouds.
My masterpiece crushed crude pipes.
We ended dinner warmer than hoped. Heading out, silent Friedrich zipped over.
"Your Highness, you survived."
"Better—talk flowed nicely."
"Just scouting the enemy tonight. But... you smoked before?"
"Hardly. Why ruin my health?"
Silence hit.
Something off? Then Friedrich blinked.
"...Tobacco harms health?"
Ah, right. So obvious to me, but here? Not common knowledge.
At worst, headaches from excess; some docs even claimed benefits.
Too late now. Friedrich hated smoke anyway—no issue.
"From what I know, yes. Heart, lungs, vessels—all bad. Stay away if you can."
"I see. Tobacco's unhealthy... Father puffs nonstop..."
He pondered, then muttered softly.
"New pipe means he'll smoke harder now."
"Pardon...?"
—Oh, son? Pushing smokes?
—You need the throne.
I stared; he grinned, shaking his head.
"Joking. He won't listen anyway."
Didn't sound like a joke.
By my knowledge, Friedrich Wilhelm dies in 1740—13 years off.
But this... might accelerate. Prep accordingly.
Yu bi mu hwan—no harm in readiness.
Even if he called it a joke.
I wasn't blind to jest from earnest.