Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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>Translator: Wjin
>Chapter: 004
>Chapter Title: The Habsburg Archduchess
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To be honest, I wasn't much of a good student back in the day.
You know those kids who excel in subjects they're interested in but utterly bomb the ones they're not?
That was me to a tee.
I'd mastered natural sciences and economics to a pretty advanced level, but creative writing and reading comprehension? Total disasters.
Even after coming to Vienna, that pattern held strong, so the teachers didn't hold out much hope for me.
Truth be told, if I put my mind to it now, I could probably blow them away with results that'd have them falling out of their chairs.
But I didn't have the luxury for that right now.
I needed to organize the crucial info in my head in a way only I could understand.
"Polish Succession War, 1733... Aqua Regia ratio is 3:1 hydrochloric to nitric..."
Human memory fades faster than you'd think—give it a few years, and poof, it's gone.
If I just sat around twiddling my thumbs, I'd forget everything I knew in no time.
Actually, sitting still might be better than what was coming.
"Your Highness, today we'll cover geometry and basic physics. Euclid's Elements..."
"To rule your lands someday, you must master basic administration and finance as well."
"Newton's theories are all the rage now, but we can't neglect natural philosophy. Aristotle is still..."
Ugh! Please, no more cramming useless junk into my brain.
I'm barely holding onto what I already have, and shoving more in just pushes out the stuff that matters.
At least the silver lining was that this schedule was looser than usual.
Thanks to my fake complaints about nightmares from Vienna's pressure, I got a few extra hours of free time each day to breathe.
Without that, I wouldn't have had time to jot down all the historical facts I remembered and the formulas I had to memorize in a notebook.
People think nobles and royals spend their days hunting, attending shows, and feasting in luxury, but this is the reality.
Heirs who'll inherit lands or countries have schedules down to the minute from childhood.
How could any organization function if the top dog wasn't competent?
In my case, hitting seventeen meant adding adult-level practical studies, so no escaping it.
"Your Highness, to inherit your lands, you must be fluent in foreign languages."
"......"
Latin, German, French, Italian, plus classical literature and history.
"Your Highness, to understand your territory's operations, you need basic interpretation skills. So from today, we'll build your ability to analyze given scenarios and documents."
On top of that: Holy Roman Empire laws, basic admin docs, finance management, tax systems.
Plus comprehensive math covering geometry, arithmetic, algebra, surveying basics, and natural philosophy.
Just listing the subjects I'm tackling right now gives you an idea.
To say it's loosened up a bit and still be this packed... no wonder I admire my past self for surviving it.
Not every schedule item was boring drudgery, though.
For instance, the weekly Sunday and major feast day masses were highlights I always looked forward to.
Not because I was some devout Catholic future emperor of the Holy Roman Empire—obviously not—but because of the casual gatherings after.
"Franz! Over here, here!"
That voice alone melted away a week's worth of exhaustion in an instant.
There was young Theresa, waving wildly with unrestrained joy.
Her maids had scolded her before for waving like that, but she always forgot and did it again. Too adorable.
Grinning like a proud dad, I stepped into the private chapel annex of the imperial chapel.
Most folks headed off to rest after mass, but thanks to the emperor's generosity, I got to see Theresa two or three times a week like this.
Probably figured it wouldn't hurt for his pushed groom candidate to bond privately with her.
For me, it was like finding an oasis in the desert—nothing but gratitude.
"Here! Sit right here!"
She beckoned me brightly.
She was still small enough that her feet didn't touch the floor when seated, but lately she acted like a proper lady.
"The snacks aren't all here yet, though."
The crisp white tablecloth set by the footmen held only coffee cups. Normally, it'd be brimming with hot chocolate in dainty cups.
"Today we're having coffee. I'm a grown-up now, after all. Did you know I picked today's beans?"
Theresa swung her dangling feet, beaming with pride.
The silver tray—barely in reach—wafted the aroma of beans gifted by Dutch merchants.
"Lady Maria Theresa Walburga Amalia Christina's refined taste shines through clearly."
I played along with her full formal title, and her smile grew even more triumphant.
Then, like reciting from a textbook, she rattled off her memorized facts.
"After His Majesty Charles VI reformed the Holy Roman Empire's dietary codes, coffee became... uh... coffee was..."
"Designated as an adult beverage."
"Ah, yes, exactly. That's what I was about to say."
Her expert act foiled, she pouted briefly before eyeing the beans.
"These beans are the... uh... Ut... oh, right. Utrecht. The same breed as the ones the French ambassador gifted His Majesty to commemorate the Treaty of Utrecht."
"Wow, impressive. Can't wait."
A footman soon brewed coffee from her beans, and Theresa sat up straight, napkin on her lap.
But when I took my cup black—no milk or sugar—her eyes twitched.
"Um... Your Highness? You drink it straight?"
"Habit, you know."
This era couldn't match modern espresso, but black coffee nailed that bitter researcher-life nostalgia.
it must have shocked her hot-chocolate-only self, though.
Her little hand crept toward the sugar bowl across the cloth, hesitated, and repeated.
"I hear His Majesty loads his coffee with sugar and milk. Why not start there?"
"N-no... A grown-up like me... learned it's proper to savor the original flavor before indulging in New World sweetness."
She insisted firmly, but her voice wavered at the end.
Her attending maid glanced sideways.
"Your Highness, perhaps stick to what you always..."
"W-what? I always enjoy coffee."
Clinging to her mature bluff, she grabbed her cup to prove it.
"See? Like this, just..."
The first sip hit her lips, and the reaction was predictable.
Her eyelids drooped halfway, jaw quivering.
But she gripped the saucer with white-knuckled fingers, acting through it.
"Uh... is it palatable?"
"Pioneering... the Empire's... p-palate."
No, that voice was clearly fighting tears.
She looked so pitiful, a smile crept onto my face unbidden.
Enough teasing after that cute show.
I beckoned a footman over with a subtle gesture.
"I’m craving something sweet today. I heard some top-quality chocolate arrived recently."
"Yes. Fresh cacao from the Spanish embassy—excellent quality."
"That, then. Lady Theresa, you went to the trouble of picking these beans, but I'm dying for chocolate today. Care to join me?"
"Really? Your Highness wants chocolate too?"
I nodded with a grin, and she cupped her cheeks, beaming ear to ear.
Soon, two steaming cups of chocolate sat before us.
Theresa inhaled the sweet, rich scent, sighed in bliss, and sipped contentedly.
"Coffee was good, but... chocolate's a tad better. Just a tad, of course."
"Same here. Especially for studious types like you—sweetness is essential."
We'd shared sweet treats and chats like this before.
I wasn't big on super-sweet stuff, but that lingering sugar evoked fond memories.
Not bad at all.
As I savored a sip, lost in the past, Theresa leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
"Right! Lessons! This week in history, we covered the Electors of the Holy Roman Empire. From the Peace of Augsburg onward, how each prince developed their region's culture—it was fascinating!"
She puffed out her chest, proud of nailing it without stumbling.
"Whoa, already tackling that? Sounds tough."
"A bit, but I need to handle harder stuff now."
"What's the toughest thing you're learning?"
"Hmm... dancing, probably? My lines aren't graceful yet, so tons of homework before the next ball."
"Dancing's still tricky for me too. What piece are you practicing?"
"La Folia—slow tempo! Any favorite tunes for you, Franz?"
She chattered on about her classes.
Monday: religion and basic dance. Tuesday: languages and music.
History, classics, etiquette, more music—the week was packed.
Tutors: top Jesuit priests and renowned scholars.
A perfect curriculum.
For becoming an ideal cultured noblewoman.
"No interest in math, politics, or military studies?"
"Huh? Well... yeah, but they say it's not time yet."
Hearing it confirmed sharpened my memories.
Theresa never got heir-appropriate education—not in childhood, not even at our marriage.
The reasons aplenty, but the biggest was Emperor Charles VI clinging to hopes of a son till the end.
She wasn't uneducated, though.
As mentioned, her mornings and afternoons brimmed with cultural lessons.
Ideal for a queen or noble matriarch.
But add "Empire ruler," and it falls short.
"Not no interest means you'd learn if His Majesty ordered it?"
"Um... if it's not too hard? I'm curious. And... since you study it too... I could ask... I mean, see you more! Er, ask questions!"
"Of course—if I can teach it, I'd gladly share. Though the Empire's finest scholars are lining up for you already."
If I truly wanted her as Habsburg ruler, she'd need to have basics in math, politics, admin by now.
Not advanced stuff—just core concepts to build on later.
And here she was, eager to learn despite the difficulty.
She regretted her lack of preparation when inheriting, all her life.
No reason to let history repeat.
"But adding subjects means less free time—won't that be tough?"
"Not at all! ...I mean, maybe. Yeah, it might! So if it's hard, cheer me on, Franz."
Her excuses were transparent as glass.
I stifled a laugh with chocolate, ducking my head.
Trouble—my stubborn modern poker face was cracking today.
"Yes, I'll cheer you on with all I've got."
Of course, tweaking her curriculum meant convincing the emperor.
Not a walk in the park, but doable.
From the moment I woke up in Vienna, this path was set.
I drained the last of our chocolate, chatted more, and reaffirmed my resolve.
To raise this little archduchess into the greatest leader in Habsburg history.
Something only I could do—something I had to do.