Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 090
Chapter Title: Generational Change
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1739, Hofburg Palace.
The imperial nursery staff, who usually enjoyed a peaceful routine, were busier than ever these days.
In any country, the organization responsible for raising imperial children had clearly defined roles.
The chief female chamberlain oversaw all childcare for princes and princesses.
The court midwife managed breast milk and the mother's health for at least three months post-delivery.
Wet nurses handled diapers, baths, and feedings.
Maids dealt with laundry, bedding, and nighttime fussing, while court physicians monitored the baby's health exclusively, and chaplains offered brief nightly prayers.
This childcare system, which seemed like a solid division of labor, underwent a major overhaul on Franz's orders.
"First off, it doesn't make sense for one wet nurse to handle both feeding and cleaning. Split those duties. And sterilization... no, cleaning needs to be done regularly every day. Bottles and hands must be cleaned every time they touch the baby's mouth."
"...Do we really need to go that far?"
"Of course! The baby's body needs to stay clean too, so bathe them frequently. But if the water temperature is even slightly off, they could catch a cold, so use lukewarm water, dry them immediately with a clean towel afterward, and make sure they're fully dry."
While Theresa was recovering from childbirth, Franz held daily special lectures for the wet nurses and physicians, as if he were setting up a childcare research institute instead of his weapons lab.
"Attention, everyone! These statistics from various countries show the top three killers of infants: diarrhea, smallpox, and pneumonia. Measles joins the list once they get a bit older."
Franz somehow knew all this—who could say from where or when—and insisted Theresa attend too, continuing his lectures even in her bedroom.
"Smallpox is so deadly and sticks in people's minds, but actually, most infant deaths come from diarrhea-induced high fevers, dehydration, and exhaustion. We need to guard against that perfectly first."
"Your Highness, of course we're doing our utmost to ensure the princess grows up as safely as possible..."
"I'm saying your current 'utmost' isn't enough. If everyone had truly done their best before, would so many children have died?"
Theresa was inwardly shocked by the statistical charts Franz had compiled.
The proportion of child deaths from diarrhea, high fevers, and dehydration was overwhelmingly high.
She knew it was dangerous for children, but seeing it visualized in graphs made it hit home unmistakably.
"Franz, but can we really prevent it? Children's bodies are naturally weaker than adults'."
"Of course there's a countermeasure. Listen up, everyone. Like when Theresa was pregnant, the baby will only drink thoroughly boiled and cooled water until they're bigger. Even then, infants might get mild diarrhea, so always have white sugar and salt mixed in water ready for them to drink. Studies show this alone prevents dehydration from diarrhea."
"...There are studies on that?"
"Naturally. And as I've emphasized repeatedly, anyone touching the baby must wash their hands first. Everything Elizabeth touches must be disinfected before being returned. We'll hire more dedicated servants for this, and anyone who violates it will never set foot in the palace again."
Theresa wondered if it was really necessary to go this far, but Franz was dead serious.
He drilled the importance of clean air, clean water, and hygiene into everyone almost like brainwashing—not just demanding it, but leading by example.
Handwashing was mandatory before even touching Elizabeth.
Anyone else acting this way would be called overly fussy, but this was the man who had eradicated smallpox.
The maids, who practically worshipped Franz, even formed a 'Cleanliness Guard' to patrol and enforce it.
Pweeeet!
"You there! Why aren't you disinfecting the linens before entering the princess's room?!"
"...Ah, sorry! I forgot."
"Forgot? For-goooot? Do it one more time, and I'll report you to His Highness Franz right away—you'll be banned from the palace!"
"I'm sorry!"
Any hint of uncleanliness triggered a whistle from somewhere, with maids swarming in.
Once, the chief chamberlain even led guards out during a meeting at a sudden whistle blast.
"What the hell is that noise? Intruders?!"
"You there! Chief chamberlain and guards! Are you in your right minds? Where do you think you're going with those filthy boots? Wash your hands first!"
"Huh? Uh, uh...?"
"Hands! Wash them!"
Theresa wrote in her diary amid yet another distant whistle today.
-Today too, the kettle legion is boiling water, and the sugar-salt brigade stands ready to rush in at any moment. Oh, and I washed my hands with soap before writing this, naturally.
At first, she thought Franz was making a big fuss to avoid disappointing her for bearing a daughter, but no.
He was genuinely reforming the palace's order.
She doubted it would work, but astonishingly, diarrhea cases vanished inside the palace as time passed.
Elizabeth grew plump and fluffy without a single rash or blister, and nobles began imitating Franz's methods at home.
Infant mortality in Vienna was steadily declining.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ -We sincerely congratulate you on the birth of the beautiful princess.
I smirked and crumpled the letter, tossing it away.
Congratulations, my foot. It was obvious they were gleefully trying to poke at me.
The electors who sent letters fastest after Elizabeth's birth were from Bavaria and the Palatinate, followed by France abroad.
The others were tiptoeing around, worried I might be upset over having a daughter, but those guys brazenly slapped 'congratulations' on theirs without hiding their glee.
Of course, they couldn't provoke outright, so they focused on Theresa's safe delivery.
Unfortunately, it did zero damage to me.
Yeah, they must be desperate to prod somehow.
It must twist their guts that nothing works, and without outlets like this, how frustrated would they be?
Even more fun events are lined up ahead, so I hope they can smile as brightly then as now.
Since they've sent such heartfelt congratulations, I should return the favor.
I'll tell Karl and Wertheimer to quietly jack up the infrastructure costs when France gets their smallpox inoculum.
They say they sincerely celebrate our daughter's birth, so they'll gladly pay a little 'congrats fee'.
I fished Louis XV's letter from the trash, tossed it into the fireplace, and watched it burn before standing.
While I'm at it, I should check on our little angel, who's growing like a weed.
After washing my hands thoroughly and changing into freshly disinfected clothes, I flung open the door happily.
"Elizabeth~ Daddy's here."
But my flawless daughter, whom I could gaze at forever, was in some strange man's arms.
"Oh, Your Highness is here?"
"What brings you? Didn't you say you were swamped today?"
"Work's no obstacle when Daddy wants to see his girl."
My eyes naturally turned to the elderly man holding her.
There was Eugène, making faces at the baby with an expression of utter adoration I'd never seen on him before.
"I came to see Your Majesty, but leaving without peeking at Vienna's most beloved princess lately felt wrong. Though the maids were... a bit intimidating."
Eugène gave a wry smile, glancing at the maids watching from a distance.
Could the great Eugène have been scolded by maids?
The head maid met my incredulous look with unshakable resolve.
"Prince Eugène brought a bottle as a gift but tried giving it to the princess without disinfecting it. We stopped him and urged him to wash his hands after touching the dirty bottle."
Ah, good call.
Truly reliable, my Cleanliness Guard. Even national heroes can't hand my daughter filth.
"Prince Eugène, you were in the wrong."
"Heh heh... Well, it wasn't this strict when Archduchess Theresa was a baby."
"Times change. Can't be helped."
Eugène chuckled at my nonchalant reply, then handed Elizabeth back to Theresa with a grunt.
"Since we're here, shall we chat for a bit?"
"Let's move somewhere else. Can't have spit flying and harming Elizabeth."
"Ah, yes..."
What was with that over-the-top reaction?
People from the ignorant 18th century. Droplet transmission is common knowledge to any modern person, lethally so.
On the balcony, I helped the mobility-impaired Eugène to his seat first.
"You haven't come to the palace much lately—what's up?"
"What trouble could a retired old man have? Just saying hello before I might not get another chance."
"...Are you unwell?"
"At my age, feeling bad is the norm, right? Heh heh heh."
He might not realize it, but he'd already outlived his original historical lifespan.
In my memory, Eugène died before the Ottoman wars even started.
He never saw mine and Theresa's child born, naturally.
I wished he'd live another 10 years—at least 5—to watch the empire he'd devoted his life to prosper further.
Noticing it on my face, Eugène shook his head with a casual laugh.
"If people could always get their way, how great would that be? Of course, I'm not saying I'm ready to go with no regrets. I'm managing my health, trying to stick around longer. I want to see this empire flourish more."
"Naturally. Who else deserves to witness it if not you, Prince Eugène?"
"Holding your daughter earlier... it stirred memories of cradling baby Archduchess Theresa. That tiny infant grew up, fell helplessly for a man she loved, and now bears his child with the world's happiest smile."
"......"
Even I vividly recall Theresa stubbornly insisting on black coffee without sugar, her eyes welling up like it was yesterday.
How must Eugène feel, the Austrian hero and field marshal who knew her from infancy?
"Still, it feels good. Maybe because I have no kids of my own, but Theresa was like a granddaughter to me. I worried what man she'd end up with as Habsburg heir... but she picked a fine one. Lucky she's got good taste in men."
"Theresa sees you like a grandfather too."
"Heh heh heh, probably. Lately, my 'granddaughter' scares me so much this old man can't move."
Eugène laughed heartily, then paused, staring into the distance before continuing slowly.
"Your Highness, is there anything you'd like me to do as my last act?"
"...Nothing you need strain for."
"No, since retiring, I'm itching for something. Anything— just give me a task."
Maybe because he knew what I was after.
His review would be invaluable, so I briefly outlined my future plans.
"...Your Highness truly dreams of empire. No, knowing it's no dream makes even this old heart race. Understood. This old man will burn his final flame for you and Theresa's vision."
That was our last conversation in this world.
Months later, on daughter Elizabeth's first birthday blessing.
Austria's great hero, Eugène de Savoie, closed his eyes peacefully before his servants.
Leaving me his final gift.
As the sun of a new era rose, one age quietly drew to a close.