Imperial Duty
“Joseph, you're going to hell, you know?”
“I know.”
“Most people would deny it.”
“I haven't repented.”
“Ah, so you know that too.”
I recited a Bible verse loud enough for Joseph to hear.
“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God...”
I grabbed Joseph's hand as he scribbled with his pen.
“Neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant...”
I grinned mischievously and asked,
“No labor at all. Right? I only skimmed the Bible, so I'm not sure.”
Instead of pulling away, Joseph let out a light, incredulous chuckle.
“Exodus 20:8 through 10.”
“Because of you, your aides are going to hell too. No making your servants work.”
“The Empire has no Sabbath.”
“God rested, but His Majesty the Emperor thinks he's above God?”
“Is there something you want to do with me?”
He's finally picking up on hints!
“Teach me billiards.”
“Billiards?”
“Yes. Mother-in-law gave me an invitation to a salon and told me to go.”
Joseph nodded at the mention of Mother-in-law.
“If you ask for my help, how can I refuse?”
“No rush. Teach me lightly after lunch later.”
I had something more important than billiards right now.
I dragged Joseph to the luncheon table.
“Was there a family dinner scheduled today?”
“Um... family luncheon?”
The children soon entered and took their seats.
All except the still young Adriana and Valerie.
“Papa, Mama.”
The children greeted us properly, if a bit awkwardly.
Which was understandable. Us having lunch with the kids was about as rare as our annual Christmas dinner.
“Sit down.”
Just treat Gisela like you normally do.
As I stared pointedly, Joseph awkwardly added,
“Ahem. Is the food to your liking?”
“Yes, Papa...”
This is going to give them indigestion.
I deliberately lightened my tone to change the subject.
“Today's menu is all your favorites.”
Kugelhof for Sophie and Gisela.
Steak for Rudolf.
And for Ferdinand...
“Ferdi, is the cucumber sandwich tasty...?”
“Yes, Mama.”
Ferdinand glanced down at his plate, then looked up and took another bite.
He'll grow out of it, right?
My son can't possibly have British tastes.
“Eat slowly. Chew thirty times before swallowing—it's good for digestion.”
At Joseph's words, the children's fork movements visibly slowed.
He was like a drill sergeant with portions.
At least he was trying...
I lightly nudged Joseph's leg under the table.
Just let them be.
Joseph looked aggrieved but mercifully stopped nagging.
“Sophie, Gisela. How's the Kugelhof?”
“Yes, Mama. The raisins inside are so good.”
Raisins in food are a sin, apparently.
“Papa likes Kugelhof too, right?”
Please play along this time.
“The late Emperor enjoyed it as well. It's a taste steeped in Habsburg tradition.”
There it was again. Tradition, late Emperor, Habsburg.
Sophie muttered, “This is Habsburg tradition,” while Gisela's eyes widened and she nodded eagerly.
“Papa... I mean, Father, would you like some?”
When Gisela offered, Joseph's face lit up.
By my standards, anyway.
His daughter sharing his tastes must have thrilled him.
Joseph's gaze shifted to Rudolf.
Rudolf was diligently slicing his steak.
His hands were still small, so his knife work was clumsy.
“The meat... it's not tough, is it?”
“N-no, it's tender...”
“Good. Eat plenty. You need to—”
Joseph. Answer properly.
“...You need to eat well to grow tall.”
This wasn't a formal Hof tafel—it was family luncheon. They needed a relaxed vibe.
“Ferdinand, do you need anything else...?”
Even Joseph trailed off at the sight of the cucumber sandwich.
Thinly sliced cucumbers in a sandwich.
On an Austrian imperial table overflowing with meat, butter, and cream—this grassy dish stood out.
Joseph looked equally baffled.
“Yes, Father. It's crisp and refreshing.”
“Huh...”
Joseph glanced at me.
His eyes asking, Did he get this from your tastes?
I shrugged.
“Not me. My diet's for beauty, not because I like eating cucumbers.”
“Then who does he take after...?”
“Not me, so maybe you.”
“I've never eaten that even during wartime.”
Was a cucumber sandwich wartime rations-level weird?
Joseph speared the last sausage and placed it on Ferdinand's plate.
Hey, I was saving that...!
“Still, eat some meat too. Balance is key.”
“Thank you.”
Ferdinand eyed the greasy sausage next to his cucumber sandwich with a subtle grimace.
“If you don't want it, Mama will eat it?”
“N-no... Mama.”
Seeing his lack of tact, Ferdi really was Joseph's son.
The initial tension had mostly dissipated.
The kids realized we weren't there to scold or test them and started smiling.
Rudolf teased Gisela about cream on her mouth, and Sophie attentively tended to her siblings.
Joseph watched with a mix of warmth and unfamiliarity.
He still looked stoic to outsiders.
“Papa... eat some.”
Sophie placed a plate of Kaiserschmarrn dessert in front of Joseph.
“It's delicious.”
Joseph said that and cleared the plate.
If Rudolf or Ferdinand had offered, he'd have chided them for picky eating.
The children's tension visibly eased.
The stiff “Father” had softened back to the usual affectionate “Papa.”
We should do this more often.
Separate bedrooms weren't so bad if we got moments like this.
Luncheon ended, and it was time to bid the children farewell.
“Study hard today too.”
Joseph, say something.
I subtly elbowed his side, and he reluctantly spoke.
“Fulfill your duties diligently.”
Uh...? That's it?
The children nodded, and the door closed.
Alone now, Joseph spoke first.
“You wanted billiards lessons.”
Right. And I had something I wanted anyway.
“Wanna bet?”
“On what?”
“If I win, buy me a Louis Vuitton.”
Apparently popular in Paris for luggage. Honestly, the name alone made me a bit happy.
“And if I win?”
“Got a wish?”
“A wish... how about returning to the Leopold?”
Sharing the marital bed wasn't worth calling a wish.
“I can grant that much.”
Hey, I used to score 300 back in the day.
No way I'd lose.
*
“This can't be...”
I stared at the scoreboard in dismay.
Two games in.
I'd only held the cue twice.
“Basic skill.”
Joseph set down his cue with a satisfied smile.
“Feeling cheated? Another round?”
“No, it's fine. A loss is a loss—gotta admit it cleanly.”
Truth be told, I wasn't skilled enough to bet in the first place.
“Then, as promised, we'll share a bed tonight after so long.”
Did triumphant generals after battle strut this much?
“It's only been a week.”
Anyone hearing would think it'd been a year of separate rooms.
He usually slept alone anyway when I was traveling.
“And what good is knowing you're good? I need to get good.”
“I can teach you.”
“You're not planning something weird, right?”
“Would I?”
“Well... no.”
He'd taught me shooting properly last time.
I stepped back to the table.
“Relax your grip and focus on the ball's edge.”
“I'm not that much of a beginner.”
Who does he think I am?
I chalked the cue expertly and scanned the table.
Thin hit with spin—avoid the kiss, safe score. Easy.
Crack!
Perfect spin, perfect path.
Got it!
As I straightened, confident in the point, the ball stopped short of the pocket.
“This is rigged, right?”
Something was wrong with the ball or table.
Joseph reset like before and stepped behind me.
“Bend lower.”
I adjusted my stance.
“Not enough push.”
His hand covered my knuckles on the cue.
“Hey, too close.”
“Focus. Extend your arm fully, then strike.”
Different vibe from shooting lessons.
“Too much tension in your shoulders.”
Joseph pressed my shoulders to relax them.
Wait, hold on. What's with him today?
This couldn't go on.
I casually changed the subject.
“What do you think of assigning Franz von Jony to Rudolf?”
“No. He has work at the General Staff.”
“Shouldn't you at least say you'll consider it?”
“Something more important right now.”
Schleswig issue still unresolved, as expected.
“Ludwig von Gablenz?”
“Him too, impossible.”
Good, war's inevitable—we're prepared.
“What about Rauscher, your old teacher?”
Joseph looked surprised.
He knew I disliked the old man.
“Not him either. He tries to control imperial authority.”
“How about Joseph Latour von Thurnburg? You know him well.”
“Latour? His family's too minor, isn't it? He works in the Central Finance Office, but...”
Crack!
I'm getting the hang of it.
I moved for the next shot and said,
“That's why we attach Countess Esterházy.”
Joseph had few options anyway.
Austria's great nobles were commanding troops, and with Prussia war looming, everyone was busy with ops planning.
“Plus, Latour was aide to Count Gondrecourt.”
Seen as a whistleblower, but he was military at heart.
“I'll consider it.”
Almost convinced.
...But when did his tone change?
Clack!
“Tch, too much wrist.”
I silently handed the cue to the attendant and walked out.
“Tch.”
“Lunchtime's over.”
Joseph checked his pocket watch.
“Still an hour left.”
I ignored his prodding and strode down the hall.
He didn't press further.
Finally, my door.
“Let no one in.”
As the maid opened it, I yanked Joseph inside.
Door clicked shut. He turned to check it, then looked at me.
“Sissi.”
“You started it.”
Hand over mine, gripping it.
Shoulder touch, adjusting stance.
Standing too close behind me.
Not Joseph's usual style. Only then did he relax and scoop me up.
“An hour's awfully short.”
***
Grüne, now used to it, set out to find the missing Emperor.
“Countess Königseck.”
“Her Majesty said let no one in.”
“He has Empire business.”
Königseck firmly told Grüne,
“Both Majesties are working for the Empire.”
Haa... Esterházy or Königseck...
Grüne sighed deeply again today and returned to Joseph's office.