Power over Life and Death
“Your Majesty the Empress's point is quite appropriate, in my view as well.”
If only I'd spent time in Prussia too.
In Vienna, saying something like that would get you called uncultured.
“Prime Minister, staring so openly at Her Majesty the Empress seems a breach of etiquette.”
“Crown Prince, you are right. At my age, I must have been so dazzled by Her Majesty's beauty that I lost myself.”
Bismarck tried to wriggle out with a sly grin.
This Junker—
“We'll accept your apology, but in exchange, could you share some of the Prime Minister's secrets with me?”
Bismarck replied with his usual leisure.
“Since I've been rude, I'll tell you everything except Prussia's secrets.”
“Could you pass on the secret to Prussia's unity? As you know, our empire has no more urgent need than that.”
Friedrich's expression darkened, but Bismarck answered without a care.
“Just as there are dishes like grenadier march, there are sausages too. No chef makes sausages from diverse ingredients meant for grenadier march.”
Grenadier march was like budae jjigae—a soldiers' heartfelt stew of whatever scraps were left, fried together.
So we're a rootless mishmash, while they're meat finely ground and stuffed neatly into intestines?
“I'm not sure if you know, Prime Minister, but sausage-making is like the law—I'd rather not know the process. Only when they douse it in heaps of pepper to hide that horrific smell do people believe the dish is complete.”
Bismarck showed no reaction to my words. He just looked like someone pondering a response, his face saying, 'And?'
And Friedrich was staring not at me, but at Bismarck.
Friedrich, if you stay quiet, nothing will change.
The moment Bismarck opened his mouth, warmth touched my hand.
“Elisabeth, the Duke of Wales is looking for you.”
Joseph, that guy's been grating on my nerves…!
“Must be the Duchess of Wales you were about to introduce me to. It was a pleasure, Crown Prince Friedrich.”
I bowed only to Friedrich and left.
“Do you know you just saved that Junker?”
If Joseph hadn't intervened, I would've ground his bones to dust with my ivory fan.
“I'll have a word with Friedrich later.”
“...Are you two close?”
In my memory, the only letters from Prussia were from Aunt Elisabeth Ludovika.
“Planning our first real talk today.”
Then why say it so boldly?
“Fine. Just don't get bewitched by that Junker.”
Joseph turned, meeting my eyes.
“I won't forget what you said.”
Yeah, because I've been drilling it into you.
Don't trust that Junker.
“He's just a smooth-talking con artist.”
Though as a diplomat, that's a compliment…
“You win.”
“Of course.”
In the social arena, ending a verbal spar at the timing I choose is more important than winning.
Dragging it out with a con like that would just tire me until he wore me down.
“And I achieved one goal too.”
“What goal?”
“From now on, Bismarck will have to think not just of you, but of me too.”
Bismarck has no clue whether I'm involved in palace politics or not anyway.
“So your offer to be my sword wasn't a joke.”
“Can't do it in Vienna.”
That place gives me a headache, honestly.
The Alpine energy is too intense—everyone there is a bit off mentally.
The terrace Joseph led me to was empty.
“Didn't you say the Duke of Wales was looking for me?”
“You looked troubled, so I made an excuse.”
“No, you did well.”
...But Joseph.
“This must be Paris for real.”
Great they're making love, but so damn loud…
As Friedrich watched the Austrian imperial couple's retreating backs, Bismarck spoke.
“The Habsburgs always explain themselves like that. That's why we must lead Germany.”
“Why?”
“Hmm, regimes that lead with excuses always collapse, don't they?”
'Excuses.'
Friedrich hoped for a politics in Germany where constitution, parliament, freedom, and responsibility coexisted.
'Only when they douse it in heaps of pepper to hide that horrific smell do people believe the dish is complete.'
The Empress's words lingered in his mind.
'Maybe it's to check Prussia.'
During the Bohemian War, Albrecht the Elder Duke's exploits had prevented Friedrich from earning military merit, shrinking his influence further.
In a reality where even his son was taken by his father, Friedrich felt suffocated.
“To think I have to do this for another week.”
I stripped off my clothes and flung myself onto the bed.
“Shall we say your health has worsened?”
“No, forget it.”
Can't just send Joseph alone.
Today was mostly greetings, but with Ottomans, Russians, Belgians—plenty to mind.
“Coming all the way to Paris and leaving Your Majesty alone feels wrong too.”
The moans from the balcony… my face burned just hearing them.
Can't say it never happens in Vienna, but at least pick the time and place.
'Should've just made him a bald emperor…'
No, hair loss in your 50s is inevitable, but thinning in your 30s would break my heart.
Joseph was forcibly suppressing his genes the way I'd taught him.
Beer yeast works great too.
Maybe after 13 years as empress, he doesn't mind me lounging so improperly anymore.
Or is it the maids who are different?
We're both too tired for nitpicking now.
No leaks outside anyway.
Meeting Bismarck today has me exhausted.
'Truth is, the more I change things, the harder it gets.'
I'm no politics-trained noble… just faking it with future knowledge.
If Germany unifies, best if Austria takes no hit.
The more Britain, France, Russia see Prussia isn't the old Prussia, the stronger our position.
Bavaria, Saxony, and… Habsburg's longed-for Silesia.
Prussia's irreplaceable industrial zone. They can't antagonize us to soothe South Germany. Dismantling Habsburgs means world war.
'No wonder Bismarck kept pro-Austria policy post-unification. Total enmity means South Germany becomes Prussian occupation, with Britain and Russia intervening.'
Still, must block unification as much as possible—which means keeping that annoying Bonaparte alive.
“Königseck, how old is the French crown prince?”
“Born in '56.”
Sigh.
Intervene in Franco-Prussian War to help France? Or watch those annoying French get crushed?
Any reason to fight Joseph for France…?
Eugénie and I are close, but…
Aigoo. Whatever.
“What troubles you so?”
“Your Majesty.”
Joseph sat on the bed's edge.
“I sent the maids away.”
Looking around, truly no one.
“Why are you here?”
Not his usual time.
“Bathed?”
“...Is that all you think we do?”
Said it yourself.
“You usually come for that.”
“Not quite…”
Not quite? You pervert even track the dates.
“Then why?”
“Tomorrow's procession. How about going with the Russian Empress?”
My words sharpened unwittingly.
“Marie of Hesse?”
Joseph eyed me warily at 'Marie of Hesse.'
“I need to talk with Alexander during tomorrow's procession.”
What’s that got to do with me?
I clocked her from our first meeting, openly picking fights.
Doesn't she know her homeland's future hangs on us? Spouting Austria hate.
Want me spending long hours with arrogant Russian empress who hates Britain, Austria, France?
“Better to join Bismarck touring the exhibition.”
Joseph took my hand.
“Never thought you'd be this uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable? That's all?”
Joseph sighed, kissing my hand's back. His beard tickled slightly.
“You're right. I… failed to consider your feelings. I'll handle Alexander alone. Rest tomorrow.”
Who said rest?
“You brought it up because you need me. Just griping a bit about Marie of Hesse.”
“You come first to me.”
“Liar.”
“The truth.”
“Then, empire or me—pick one. Which?”
Joseph gripped tighter.
“If forced to choose between you and the empire, I'd pick you.”
Good, say the right words.
“But if the empire falls, I can't protect the children—or you.”
I chuckled. As expected.
“So, the empire.”
I wrapped my arms around Joseph's neck.
“You know. You'll say this but do what you want anyway.”
“Sorry.”
His lips touched my forehead.
Too ticklish.
I tugged his detachable beard to remove it.
Uh…? Why won't it come off?
“...This real?”
When did he grow it?
Can't grow this long in a day or two.
Joseph pulled my hand away, fiddling with his beard. Mischief in his eyes.
“About a month.”
Still unbelieving, I tugged lightly again.
“Avoiding me for this? Using Hungary compromise as excuse to hide growing a beard?”
Hide growing a beard?
Joseph smiled awkwardly.
Anyone'd think I'm the empress who bullies her emperor.
“Feared you'd get mad if caught. But it suits imperial dignity. Viennese need to see me and think, 'That's the emperor.' Could've shaved per your word, but… I was stubborn this time.”
Looking closely, real beard suits better than fake.
“Grow it if you want.”
“Really?”
That exciting?
“Better than heading to war.”
Perfect, something I wanted to try.
“In exchange for granting your request tomorrow, grant one of mine?”
“What?”
Thinks it's travel or shopping like usual? He'll agree.
“May I trim your beard?”
“You know how…?”
I nodded.
Of course—eyebrows every time.
“This beauty isn't free.”
Joseph looked uneasy briefly, then nodded meekly.
“...Promise not to shave it all off.”
I hooked my pinky like old times; Joseph did too, sealing the pact. *
Moments later, razor in hand, Joseph's head resting carefully on my lap.
I waved the razor before his eyes teasingly.
“Joseph, you'd abandon the empire for me, right?”
Joseph swallowed hard.
“...Of course.”
See? Holding power over life and death gets the answers I want.