Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 041
Chapter Title: Return
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Thanks to the perfect mutual understanding between Wilhelm and me, everything wrapped up at lightning speed—like frying beans in a flash of thunder.
The draft of the agreement was already complete. After killing time lounging around just enough, I finally steeled myself to leave Berlin.
It wasn't because I was worried about what Friedrich or Wilhelmina might pull next. Absolutely not.
Theresa had said she wouldn't share a meal with her father until I returned, so this was just me rushing back to rescue the poor old man abandoned by his daughter.
"...Didn't you say women can't handle big things?"
"Your Majesty, that was when I became emperor. Right now, I'm nothing more than a loyal hound ready to bend my knee and back at any moment."
"Haha... If I didn't know your true intentions, I'd have thought you were a pathetic man without any pride, but now I'm even impressed. Of course, a real man knows when to swallow his pride for ambition's sake."
"Hahaha..."
Think whatever you like.
But if he had the leisure to pry into others' hearts like that, maybe he should take a look at his own daughter sharpening a blade of burning ambition right by his side. Still, I said nothing of the sort.
"Your Highness! Please visit Berlin anytime. No, if I get the chance, I'll come to Vienna again."
"Of course. If you come to Vienna, I'll welcome you with open arms whenever and wherever."
"When it's just the two of us, feel free to call me Friedrich casually. We're friends now, after all. Haha."
Friedrich shouldn't be a concern for the time being.
From the looks of him with Wilhelmina, it was Wilhelm who needed worrying about—not these two.
"Oh, Your Highness. My sister said the pipe you made would be the perfect additional gift for Father. He discusses state affairs while smoking with his aides all the time, so wouldn't it be great if you gave them similar pipes too?"
"Ah, sure."
"I already mentioned it to Father casually, and he loved the idea. Just thought you'd like to know."
I glanced sideways, and Wilhelmina met my eyes with the sweetest smile, nodding warmly.
The Hohenzollerns are terrifying...
> I should bury my bones with the affectionate Habsburgs after all.
"Well then, I'll take my leave. Thank you for making my time in Berlin so truly valuable."
My mind had been a bit foggy, but all things considered, this trip had netted me almost everything I wanted.
The secret deal with Wilhelm was sealed, and on the surface, the Austria-Prussia agreement was neatly wrapped up.
On top of that, I'd built good relations not just with Friedrich but also his sister Wilhelmina, and I now knew full well how devoted a son and daughter they were.
So...
> By the time the War of the Polish Succession broke out, Prussia's power structure would likely have shifted.
Wilhelm might be gone from this world by then—or confined to his bed.
Sending a few pipes as gifts shouldn't be hard at all, then.
And really, even if—purely hypothetically—some unintended mishap occurred, it would only benefit me. No real loss.
Of course, I'd make damn sure to have a solid alibi proving I had nothing to do with it beforehand.
I truly know nothing about any of it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Around the time Franz departed Berlin and arrived back in Vienna.
Great Britain, London.
A session was in full swing at the Palace of Westminster.
"Urgent dispatch from the Berlin embassy. Austria and Prussia have indeed signed an agreement."
Robert Walpole, Britain's first Prime Minister under the world's pioneering cabinet system—not just in Britain—continued, flapping the papers in his hand.
"If this signals a drastic shift in the German states' power balance, we cannot afford to ignore it."
"Are Prussia and Austria forming an alliance?"
"No. Details are still unclear, but the agreement covers two major points."
1. Prussia endorses the Pragmatic Sanction, recognizing women's succession rights in the Habsburg line.
2. If Berg Duchy lacks a legitimate heir, Austria will not oppose Prussia elevating a claimant with rights.
Whatever additional terms are attached will only become clear once the full text is public, but on the surface, this was a resounding Prussian diplomatic victory.
"Austria's really okay with this? We know securing the Pragmatic Sanction is priority one, but they gave up way too much."
"Didn't I tell you? Charles VI is a complete pushover."
"They've got Eugène de Savoie for military, but diplomacy lacks anyone of that caliber. Wilhelm must've cooked them good."
The MPs who seemed uninterested in German affairs chatted casually, but Walpole didn't think so simplistically.
There were a few peculiarities in this Berlin Treaty he absolutely could not overlook.
"But as you all know, Franz Stefan was part of the Austrian delegation. Everyone knows he could be the next Holy Roman Emperor."
"He's the one who absolutely needs the Pragmatic Sanction passed. That's why Austria conceded so much—to get that approval, right?"
"Franz Stefan is exceptionally capable. Based on his actions so far, we can't dismiss him lightly. There might be some ulterior motive."
"Prime Minister, come on—he's not even twenty yet, a total novice. You know diplomacy demands years of experience."
The assembled MPs, regardless of party, seemed to have already concluded: 'Franz gave it all away to Prussia just to become emperor.'
Circumstantially likely, but something nagged at Walpole.
Austria wouldn't welcome Prussia gobbling up Berg amid its rising momentum.
If there was some secret deal between them, the German balance would shatter in an instant.
What kind of nation is Great Britain?
The guardian of equilibrium, mediating Europe's tumults to preserve world peace.
Others might scoff, but every honorable British MP holds this truth deep in their heart without exception.
"Gentlemen, erase Franz Stefan's age from your minds. Has any nineteen-year-old in Austria ever started a business alone, then leveraged it to enter the Privy Council and Finance Committee?"
"..."
"We mustn't underestimate our opponent based on assumptions—or overhype them, for that matter."
"So what do we do? Vienna's spy network is just rebuilding; we can't expect full intel yet."
The room's mood darkened.
The fortune poured into Austria's network—gone overnight.
Rebuild costs included, who knew how much more it'd take.
In the chill air, Pulteney—Walpole's rival in the party—spoke up softly to lighten the mood.
"Then let's draw out that Franz ourselves."
"How?"
"Can't lure him here, but France is mediating our war with Spain at Soissons, right? Austria will join for sure—why not get Franz there?"
"Good idea. France is dying to size him up too; we'll get a rough gauge."
"But will he show just because we say so? Charles VI isn't a fool."
"Well..."
Pulteney hesitated, unable to say outright, You figure it out.
Walpole, proving his Prime Ministerial mettle, devised a plan to shift all blame elsewhere.
"Leave it to Ambassador Robinson."
"Pardon?"
"The intel he secured was invaluable for our Spanish talks. If he brings Franz Stefan to the conference, who could object to keeping him as ambassador?"
"Ah! Brilliant! As expected of the Prime Minister! Hahaha!"
Even if Robinson bore blame for massive losses in the last war(?), merit could offset demerit.
Fail? Then his term simply ends there.
Either way, the Commons bore no responsibility.
Parliament remained peacefully serene today as ever.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Upon returning to Vienna, I requested the ceremonial welcome be streamlined in several ways.
Full protocols from audience prep to entering the palace would draw too much unwanted attention.
The Emperor approved. Review, deliberation, and ratification would all happen at once in the Privy Council.
Some argued allowing Prussia to take Berg was risky, but our Charles VI countered that it was all part of his grand design—shutting down objections cold.
Thus, the Berlin Treaty gained imperial ratification, signatures from the advisors, and full legal force.
Saxony Electorate approved too, luring their mirror-glass industry.
Now, of the Holy Roman Empire's nine electors, only one hadn't endorsed the Pragmatic Sanction.
Hanover Electorate, held by the King of England.
They'd want to milk that card forever, but with 8:1 odds, they couldn't hold out indefinitely.
Just paint them as scheming to divide us via British Parliament plots.
"Well done. My faith in you was not misplaced, Franz."
"No, Secretary Bartenstein deserves the real credit."
Praising Bartenstein publicly before everyone earned him an awkward smile—and clear goodwill from the other councilors eyeing me.
Trivial merits like these? Didn't matter who got them; I could give them away freely.
Impressing the high ministers as a humble son-in-law? Bargain.
Satisfied with the council session, I headed straight to see Theresa.
Nearly a month apart—hope she wasn't sulking.
That worry vanished the moment I entered her study, confronted by the bizarre sight.
"Huh? I heard you went to the council first—already back?"
"Of course. Gotta play with Theresa, so I rushed those boring meetings. But what's all this?"
"Ah... Well, my competitive spirit got fired up a bit...?"
A chessboard sat on her vast desk, surrounded by stacks of books.
No need to check; every one was chess-related—not literature or religion.
"Luis López's Book on the Art of Chess, Alessandro Salvio's Treatise on the Invention and Gameplay of Chess. Gioacchino Greco's Chess Tactics, Gustavus Selenus's Chess, or the King's Game. You've really collected a treasure trove."
Chess classics from the 16th to 17th centuries, all arrayed before me.
Obviously, Theresa hadn't assembled this dream setup for modern chess fans out of mere hobby.
"...You couldn't beat Friedrich even once, so you got fired up?"
"Mmm... Yeah, I need at least one win to feel satisfied... Hehe."
Papers of game notations stacked beside the books—she'd even hired a tutor for matches and recorded them all.
Friedrich didn't seem professionally trained, so Theresa might crush him in revenge yet.
Sensing she'd overdone it, she dodged my incredulous stare and changed the subject forcibly.
"B-But you're calling him Friedrich? You two on casual terms now?"
"We got close enough, so we agreed to drop formalities in private. Like we do."
"Hmph... Doesn't sit right. Fine, we made a bet: winner gets one wish. Next time, I'll smash him and use it."
When did they even make that deal?
"A wish? For what?"
"You're staying with me, so no more dragging you to Berlin. I think Friedrich's trying to keep introducing his sister to you."
I could deny that flat-out, but her possessive streak was too adorable—I wanted to tease a little.
"Funny you mention—I met his sister Wilhelmina in Berlin."
"...Really? How was she?"
"Mmm, very mature. Got along great with Friedrich."
"No, no—not that! I mean... like... was she pretty? Or average? N-Not for any reason, just..."
Theresa stammered, then suddenly glared.
"You know exactly what I mean and you're teasing on purpose!"
Sharp as ever.
Her transparent worry made me chuckle; I wanted to rib her more, but I relented.
I could guess her fears—and why she'd pushed so hard to beat Friedrich at chess.
"Sorry, sorry. She doesn't hold a candle to you."
"...Really?"
"Who in Europe could even compare to you?"
She beamed like her pout had never existed, so I sat opposite and nodded.
"So don't worry. I'm not going anywhere but here. No matter where I roam, I'll always come back."
Having died once and flown to the modern world only to return—this promise was ironclad.
My place is nowhere but by your side.
Blushing with a shy smile, Theresa soon flashed a happy grin and declared solemnly.
"Good! It's a promise, Franz! No matter what, stay by my side forever. Our new goal: crush Friedrich!"
Yeah, yeah. At chess.
My young empress, who had to concede defeat gracefully, still reached for the board like a true competitor.
The pure white queen gleamed beautifully in the brilliant sunlight streaming through the window.
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