The Invisible Hand of the Empress
The morning after standing on tiptoes, I woke up earlier than usual.
Whoa… what time does this guy even get up?
Franz Joseph had already left, leaving me alone on the vast, empty bed.
He comes to bed later than me and leaves earlier… Being emperor really sucks.
I rang the bell beside me.
These days, I'd figured out a trick—just shake it and flop right back down.
After finishing my usual preparations, I said to Countess Esterházy-Lichtenstein,
“Chief lady-in-waiting.”
“You called for me, Your Majesty?”
“From today onward, add the empress's official schedule to my routine.”
Esterházy hesitated for a moment but soon asked calmly,
“Which schedule would you like to begin with? Visits to charity hospitals or sponsored events require a lot of prior coordination and could take time.”
She means we still need the Archduchess's permission, huh.
Whatever. That's not the only duty of an empress.
And big sponsorships naturally carry political weight, but they'd mean clashing directly with the nobles aligned with the Archduchess.
“Aren't there any new orphanages or shelters for workers discarded by industrialization?”
“Orphanages and poorhouses are already monopolized by nobles and the church—they wouldn't align with Your Majesty's intentions.”
I thought industrialization hadn't hit yet, but the way she dodges that… guess not.
Plus, those places are under Sophie Archduchess's influence, so no good for building my own power base.
“As Your Majesty says, church- and noble-centered charity alone can't handle the surging urban worker poor. Shall we schedule today's itinerary for the suburbs?”
The suburbs, meaning the city outskirts.
“Before that, aren't there any shelters for workers?”
And scheduling it means I don't have to go personally, right?
“They live in community-based groups. There are no official sponsorship organizations, Your Majesty.”
I already knew from pop culture that many queens did charity like this.
Like Eva Perón from that musical, or Queen Mary and the queen consort from the George V movie.
But the biggest problem was…
I hate wearing corsets.
It shreds my self-esteem.
The era with the most brutal waist pressure in human fashion history.
Considering the era right before—pre-WWI—was the most comfortable…
Should I just start a war now? The steel in corsets could go to munitions.
As my weird thoughts wandered, a maid entered, whispered something to Esterházy, and she bowed to me.
“Your Majesty, the morning salon has been canceled. His Majesty the Emperor wishes to attend the theater with you.”
“Got it.”
Theater in the morning… is it the afterglow of dawn?
After all preparations, I stood before the mirror—beautiful as always.
Like seeing my post-shower self from the past.
As I waited, Franz Joseph came to fetch me personally.
“Are you ready, Empress?”
I lightly placed my hand on his offered one, and we rode the imperial carriage to the Burg Theater.
The theater was a palace in itself.
Under the glow of red velvet, gold leaf, and massive chandeliers, all of Austria's power gathered in one spot.
“Guess there's nothing to do in the morning.”
Franz Joseph muttered.
You came to see this with me from the morning too, y'know?
As we appeared in the imperial box, every noble in the house rose and bowed in unison.
In the suffocating silence, hundreds of opera glasses silently turned toward us. I felt like a doll on display.
Sensing my tension, Franz Joseph squeezed my hand where no one could see.
Then all the theater lights dimmed, spotlights flooding only the stage.
“Today's play is Franz Grillparzer's Sappho.”
Who's Franz Grillparzer?
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
The curtain rose, and I focused on the play.
Ancient Greek poetess Sappho falls for Phaon but makes a tragic choice between love and art.
Thunderous applause erupted at the end, but I clapped mechanically, my mind elsewhere.
What did Franz Joseph mean by showing me this?
Franz Joseph watched Sisi clapping blankly and thought,
'You are different from other ladies.'
Sappho was portrayed as a genius artist transcending mere mortals, a semi-divine being.
'The only shining, free spirit in the muddy court—a free-souled empress.'
Others might see her as a frivolous foreigner, but he alone recognized her true worth—that was his confession.
She just didn't know it.
But Sappho's tragedy was that her greatness led to her downfall.
He loved her free spirit, yet her impulsive salon antics had clashed with realpolitik, causing dangerous ripples.
Finally, taught that an emperor must suppress emotions, he had asked awkwardly,
'Before tragedy finds you, I want to know you.'
Sisi remained oblivious.
“Your Majesty, we've arrived.”
As I prepared to descend, Esterházy's voice stopped me.
“Your Majesty, you cannot alight here.”
Cannot alight? Then why come here?
She parted the curtain to show the scene outside.
Instead of answering my question, she stated the obvious.
“For Your Majesty's safety, you cannot descend here.”
She pointed to the teeming crowds outside.
“This is not the Hofburg Palace. Among them could be those unaware of Your Majesty's identity, malcontents against the regime, or even assassins.”
But…
“Isn't that what the guards are for?”
Esterházy's tone shifted, like our first day.
“Your Majesty. The guards' duty is not to clear a path for you through the crowd. Their task is to build a wall between Your sacred person and the masses.”
Yeah, she said something like that on day one.
“The moment Your Majesty steps onto that muddy street, you cease to be the empire's empress to them. Just a fine lady in fancy clothes. The empress's authority stems from awe, and awe from distance.”
Esterházy's voice held no emotion.
“If they see mud on Your Majesty's dress hem, sweat on Your cheeks, you panting like them—they'll pity or scorn you, but never revere you.”
So it's back to old etiquette problems.
“If the sun descends to earth, caked in dust, who would revere it? Guards protect Your person, but also Your sanctity—from their filthy hands and rude stares. That is their true duty.”
Esterházy met my eyes squarely, imprinting the visit's true meaning once more.
“Your Majesty, your visit means something simply because the Empress was here. The mere knowledge that you deigned to look upon this place will tense local officials and make nobles divine your will.
That is the empress's power. Your Majesty, do not soil your hands with dirt—move the invisible hand instead.”
I nodded in formal agreement with her view.
“Understood. But… I want to see a bit more.”
Esterházy smiled.
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
The carriage crept forward at walking pace through narrow alleys.
I needed a clear target for that invisible hand Esterházy mentioned.
The first appeared immediately: a dilapidated communal well in the alley's center.
“Chief lady-in-waiting. I want a report on that well's condition and a budget for water quality improvements.”
But is one well enough?
Food waste and sewage littered everywhere, stinking.
Leave that, and filth breeds epidemics, right?
Especially in those chicken-coop tenements.
“Are only children living here?”
Thinking about it, I only saw priests or nuns among adults.
“This is not an orphanage.”
Meaning… the adults are out working, no one to watch the kids.
“We need to build a school.”
At least they'd learn until parents returned.
“Chief lady-in-waiting, prepare a report on that church's name and the priest's.”
Until we left the outskirts, I kept investigating them.
Franz Joseph entered the marital bedroom looking weary but smiled soon after.
He didn't expect me to be awake, huh?
As I began a curtsy—one foot back, knees bending—Franz Joseph strode over and gently caught my arm.
“No need.”
He straightened me up, shaking his head.
“Not in this room.”
Esterházy looked faint at the sight.
Franz Joseph ordered the door shut, then cupped my cheek softly.
Hey, couldn't yesterday, so today?
As I tried to pull away,
he lightly kissed my forehead.
“Don't do the Hofknicks to me here. It means I must be emperor even in this room—the saddest thing for me.”
Oh, uh…
“Your Majesty.”
“What is it?”
“…You're short.”
And why not? I'm 173 cm.
He saw the tiptoes just now. “Pretend you didn't see…”