Habsburg's Liberalist
“Did you go to the battlefield with your pregnant body?”
I knew it would be like this.
The moment I arrived in Vienna, my mother-in-law's relentless barrage of nagging greeted me, just as expected.
Sigh… Even if I told her the truth, she'd just drop dead on the spot.
That man has already suffered enough.
“You took care of Joseph while you were pregnant too, Mother.”
Mother stared at me blankly for a moment.
She's probably calculating what that name implies.
“I never expected that name from your lips.”
So she noticed too.
Not my husband, not even Father.
Franz Joseph Charles Bonaparte.
And the one name attached before it.
“Where did you hear about Napoleon?”
The man known in Vienna as Joseph Karl Franz.
“I saw it in the warehouse.”
No one told me directly.
“Don't misunderstand—I saw a portrait of Joseph as a boy and got curious, so I looked it up.”
No matter how I looked at it, he wasn't my father-in-law.
“It was already in the museum. Why seek out Joseph's portrait in the warehouse?”
…Because the Joseph I originally knew was the grandfather, and now I'm living through his youth and middle years with him. And I've seen the museum portraits too many times already.
No, snap out of it.
Almost slipped again.
Whenever an unfavorable topic comes up, she always diverts like this.
I always fell for it before, but not this time. Absolutely not.
“I judged that staying in Italy at that moment was the right choice.”
“The day you first set foot in this palace, I clearly told you: the Empress is no longer alone—she is part of the Empire.”
“I made that judgment for the Empire.”
“The battlefield is no place for an Empress. The moment word of the declaration of war arrived, you should have returned to Vienna at once.”
Mother's words weren't wrong.
“It doesn't matter why I was there. The result is what counts—the imperial army's morale held strong.”
If I admitted the truth, she'd only find it even stranger.
She'd start prying into why it wasn't my own will.
“This matter will be judged by His Majesty the Emperor himself. See that you understand.”
Joseph must be pretty pissed…
“I'll go, then.”
I rose from my seat and left Mother's chambers.
Mother overexerted herself while pregnant too, but she only nags me…
I'd stayed in Verona because I was certain it was safe from the Sardinian invasion.
“And His Majesty?”
“His Majesty is occupied with peace treaty negotiations and asked me to convey his deep regret at being unable to meet you in person.”
Or maybe he's so angry he doesn't even want to see my face…?
What are the absolute no-gos when I see Joseph today?
First off… the results were good, so it's all fine, right?
Absolutely forbidden. He might get mad enough to suggest separate bedrooms.
Touching imperial authority is off-limits too.
Joseph lets me dip into politics, but I don't want to become some external symbol over the ethnic groups.
Ethnic issues have to go through me.
Last time in parliament, it felt like any reform or law would spark a revolution from some ethnic group.
As Empress, I need to steer things through tolerance, exceptions, and gradual consensus with Emperor Joseph.
The best perk of knowing the future? Joseph holds that throne for over forty more years.
Like getting soaked in a drizzle—slow and steady.
As for why Mother calls him Franz… I think I get it now.
To her, the name Joseph symbolized failure.
“Tch. If she's pregnant, she should at least know how to take care of her own body.”
Archduchess Sophie concluded as she recalled her conversation with her daughter-in-law that day.
How did that girl, who never cared about court matters, learn about something like that?
It was a story from a very distant past.
A husband who couldn't even protect himself.
And the powerless women of the imperial house.
The Emperor had been incompetent, the succession perpetually unstable.
Before Franz Joseph was born, Sophie had lost far too much.
Looking back, the only one she could truly confide in had been her nephew, Napoleon II.
She’s never miscarried, so she has no idea how dangerous that was.
Every time Sophie saw her daughter-in-law, she was reminded of her own younger self.
The way she stubbornly called him Joseph when everyone else said Franz. Her liberal leanings.
And her beauty.
The combination of handsome Joseph, who took after her, and the daughter-in-law, who took after her(?), made for the finest looks, in her opinion.
“What is His Majesty doing?”
“Discussing the Regensburg Treaty.”
Sophie clicked her tongue.
“Go tell him to attend to the Empress.”
Clinging to a foregone conclusion like that. Caring for the Empress at his side is a hundred times more important right now.
Sophie left her advice for Joseph, who had forgotten that tending to the Empress was an imperial duty too.
The Archduchess closed her eyes. A distant memory surfaced—of her younger self, so much like Sisi now.
‘Your Highness, Archduchess.’
At the end of the corridor, in the shadow untouched by sunlight, the boy had always been there.
A child who belonged nowhere.
‘Joseph.’
The one moment she could breathe in the stifling court.
As Sophie lost herself in reminiscence, a maid's voice announcing a visitor from the Empress's palace shattered the silence.
Sophie slowly opened her eyes.
That boy had died long ago, and the corridor now held a different meaning.
“Her Majesty the Empress invites Your Highness to tea.”
“Convey that I shall attend.”
Yes, Joseph is gone now.
The day Napoleon II died, liberalism had failed.
Sophie had abandoned it too, molding herself to the court.
She couldn't just stand by while her daughter-in-law repeated the mistakes of youth.
“Prepare.”
Max has realized it too—he’ll come back soon.
Freedom was beautiful, but it offered no protection to the House of Habsburg.
She hoped Maximilian and Sisi would realize that as well.
Sophie hurried the tea preparations, clicking her tongue inwardly.
To Luxembourg in the meantime?
Sisi's maneuvers were as swift as Prussian legions.
Sophie didn't touch her tea first.
She glanced at Sisi, then at the teacup, before speaking.
“It seems there's more to discuss.”
Not a question—more a confirmation of fact.
Sisi set her teacup down again.
“I need Mother's help with the Modena succession issue.”
“Modena?”
Sophie had never imagined Modena coming up in their conversation.
She'd expected talk of the pregnancy, the Emperor, attitudes toward liberalism.
“Shouldn't you go to the Emperor for Modena matters?”
“Of course the succession right belongs to us.”
Sophie waited to hear what more Sisi would say, as she stated the obvious.
“What I wish to discuss is the marriage between the daughter of Count de Chambord and Rudolf.”
Unfortunately, no son.
‘A daughter, so maybe it follows the original history.’
Sisi speculated.
If it had been a son, Henri V might have stepped aside to secure the lineage—but with Salic law in place, he seemed unlikely to accept the tricolor.
‘Orléans betrayed the family twice; hard to forgive that.’
“Even Franz wouldn't fail to understand this betrothal, would he?”
The last princess of the French dynasty.
Orléans and Bonaparte were hard for Habsburgs to stomach, but the last Bourbon princess? The Emperor would welcome her with open arms.
‘Though the choice will ultimately be Rudolf's.’
“I just don't want to argue with him over our children's betrothals.”
Sophie did some quick calculations.
If Francesco died without children, Savoy would make a desperate grab via the duke's mother's Savoy blood.
‘Count de Chambord's daughter.’
Francesco's sister was the Countess de Chambord.
A child in the line of succession—and betrothed to Rudolf.
Ha, what a clever girl.
“You mean to raise the young lady, daughter of Count de Chambord, here in Vienna together?”
“If Mother permits.”
Modena's Duke Francesco V had no heirs. Savoy's claims were predictable.
‘Habsburg crown prince, son-in-law to the Bourbons, legitimate heir to Modena.’
A faint smile tugged at Sophie's lips.
She'd thought her daughter-in-law just some naive liberal, but she knew how to use royal legitimacy to crush her foes.
“Very well. I'll inform Franz myself. He'd only get a headache over Italian matters anyway.”
It was a decision to block even Savoy's last desperate ploy.
Matrilineal claims were usually weak, but Louis XIV had once waged the War of the Palatine Succession to aid the Ottomans.
Sophie understood that much.
But…
“Then why go to Luxembourg?”
Sisi hesitated a moment.
‘How much should I reveal?’
Sisi had her own calculations.
Joseph had vaguely realized the Emperor must bear the burden of power alone.
If the Empress's name kept rising like this, he'd likely strip her of whatever roles remained.
‘Then I'd be left with… playing the compliant ornament or fleeing the court on endless travels.’
“I wanted a quiet place for some prenatal care and a bit of rest.”