Our Long-Awaited Date
How long had it been since our last date? Lately, incidents kept cropping up inside and outside the court.
“Sissi, do we really have to go to Galicia?”
“They mentioned nobles, didn’t they?”
It probably meant they were targeting the Tsar, not Franz Joseph.
“Nobles calling for independence from Austria are rare. But there are plenty of places where peasants hate the nobles.”
If another assassination happened there, the peasants might start massacring nobles again.
Besides, I needed to find differences with the Hungarian nobles.
We’d bound Vienna and Bohemia with bureaucracy, Italy with commerce and industry—but the key to Hungary might lie in Poland. As Metternich said, everything to the right of the linguistic border was Asia.
Maybe there was something to that.
I shook my head lightly to clear the stray thoughts.
It had been ages since our last date. I should enjoy the moment instead of worrying.
“… So exotic.”
We slowed our steps.
Buildings adorned with sand-colored arches and blue tiles. Under the arches, guides in turbans quietly welcomed guests.
“The Ottoman Pavilion. I hear France put the most effort into this section of the exhibition.”
“France invested heavily?”
“With their canal construction in full swing, it’s probably a bid for more attention.”
Would Trieste get busy too?
No, stop.
I wasn’t a workaholic like Franz Joseph.
I took his hand and led him inside the Ottoman Pavilion.
No wonder Ottoman spices were top-grade. The scent hit me all at once.
“The air here feels different.”
Franz Joseph’s uneasy expression was probably my imagination.
“Let’s sit for a bit.”
He led me to low benches shaped like divans, piled high with plush cushions.
I’d only seen these in photos!
Since it was Eastern style…
“Do we take off our shoes?”
“It’s tradition here, but they don’t force it on foreign guests.”
He didn’t show it, but the emperor taking off his shoes to sit on the floor clearly felt awkward.
“Yosha, if I think of it as a bed, it’s more comfortable.”
Of course you’d kick off your shoes to climb into bed.
Franz Joseph adjusted his posture and unnecessarily stroked his recently trimmed mustache.
Sorry, I was confident about that, but…
I turned away, pretending not to notice.
Soft footsteps approached from beyond the arch.
A turbaned waiter carried a tray carefully toward us. On it sat a small coffee set, a glass of water, and neat little candies.
“May I prepare Ottoman coffee for you?”
Franz Joseph glanced at me.
I tilted my head slightly and said, “Of course.”
The waiter bowed once more and quietly asked, “How sweet would you like it?”
Franz Joseph’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.
You want sugar, don’t you?
I held back a laugh and replied, “Sweet for me, and black for His Majesty.”
The waiter’s movements were precise. Coffee poured from a small pot into the cups.
“Please don’t stir it. Just drink it as is.”
No stirring?
“Wait until the grounds settle.”
Ah, got it.
“We’ll call if we need anything. Leave us alone for now.”
As the waiter vanished, I winked playfully and slid the sugared coffee toward Franz Joseph.
“I ordered it that way for Your Majesty’s dignity, but nothing beats sugar for shaking off fatigue.”
He couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips as he picked up the cup.
“I must thank the Empress for her consideration.”
I knew best how to handle Franz Joseph, after all.
I sipped the strong coffee and looked around.
People leisurely smoking hookahs, nobles reclining in conversation.
It was making me drowsy too.
… That’s it.
I set down my cup and tugged lightly at Franz Joseph’s sleeve.
“Franz Joseph, look over there.”
“The hookah? Want to try it?”
“No, not the tobacco. Look at the vibe.”
“The vibe?”
“I think I get why Hungarian magnates and Polish szlachta despise Vienna’s bureaucracy so much.”
The scene was the polar opposite of Vienna’s bureaucrats racing against every minute and second to stamp papers. It clicked in my head the moment I saw it.
“They see themselves as warriors.”
“True enough.”
He still looked puzzled as he gazed at me.
“Vienna, Bohemia, and Italy converse through laws and regulations—but to them, that feels like control, doesn’t it?”
“Control…”
“The szlachta enjoyed the Golden Liberty, even electing their kings by vote. The magnates permitted their kings.”
“Sissi, then shouldn’t Bohemia be more like Poland?”
“Bohemia had an electoral tradition, but they never fully shook the king’s power.”
In fact, they tried and got utterly crushed.
During Empress Maria Theresa’s reign, they nearly got devoured by the Elector of Bavaria and ended up stripped of all administrative rights, folded into Vienna’s bureaucracy.
But telling Franz Joseph that would…
Sigh, Elisabeth!
Date. Date.
This was our rare time alone. The empress could take a break.
“… Let’s see somewhere else.”
I lightly tugged his arm and stepped out from under the arch.
“Where to?”
I glanced around and pointed with my fan.
“There.”
“The Egyptian Pavilion.”
“I want to go.”
“Did they haul a pyramid over too?”
Chuckling at his joke, I entered the Egyptian Pavilion with him.
“No pyramids, but they brought a whole temple.”
Passing the row of sphinxes at the entrance, massive temple columns loomed imposingly.
Even I felt swept up in the dreamy orientalism.
“That’s a canal model.”
Predictably, Franz Joseph ignored the ornate gold-leafed mummy and zeroed in on the huge map model in the corner.
“The Suez Canal. They say it’ll be complete soon.”
“When that opens, the Mediterranean balance shifts. Trieste and Venice could reclaim their trade dominance…”
His eyes were slipping back into emperor mode.
I’d just taken off my empress mask for the day.
I quickly redirected his gaze.
“Yosha, look at that.”
I led him to a glass display case.
“They say that’s Queen Ahhotep’s jewelry.”
He tilted his head.
“Empress Eugénie would love it.”
“She probably already does.”
I smiled and said, “A jewel coveted by the French Empress? Now I’m even more curious.”
Franz Joseph stared at it a moment, then said, “It would suit you too.”
I blinked.
“The jewels?”
“No.”
He said it so casually.
“I meant someone who draws the eye like that.”
… You’re embarrassing me, and there are people around.
I fanned my face to hide the flush.
It burned.
“Don’t say things like that in public.”
He glanced around.
Ladies examined the case; gentlemen read the plaques.
“Just stating facts.”
“… Even if it’s true.”
I glared at him over my fan.
The corner of his mouth lifted just a fraction.
No. I couldn’t lose ground here.
I read the plaque below the case.
“Queen Ahhotep protected the dynasty during war.”
“A queen at war?”
“Not fighting herself, but a symbol to safeguard the dynasty.”
“… Sounds like you.”
I shook my head immediately.
“No.”
“Why so certain?”
I chose my words carefully.
“I’m not here to protect the dynasty… I’m here by your side.”
Franz Joseph’s breath caught.
Gotcha this time.
Think you’re the only one who can say romantic things? I can too.
The exhibition lights flickered on one by one.
“Time flew by.”
“They say the view from the belvedere is stunning at night.”
Really?
Franz Joseph and I headed to the belvedere.
The iron stairs were steeper than expected. Lifting my dress hem step by step, he silently offered his hand without a word.
“You might trip.”
“The empress tumbling down stairs would make front-page news.”
“That’s why I should hold on.”
I grumbled but took his hand anyway.
The warmth seeped through our gloves, oddly reassuring.
Whew, exhausting.
At the top, Paris’s nightscape unfolded.
The Seine flowed like a silver ribbon in the distance; exhibition roofs twinkled like stars.
A breeze rustled my dress and hair.
“Beautiful.”
I murmured without thinking.
“Indeed.”
His gaze wasn’t on the city but me. I pretended not to notice and rested my hands on the railing.
Music drifted up from below, loosening the air.
“How many times did the emperor vanish today?”
“More often than I thought.” His tone suggested otherwise—maybe because we were in public?
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes… I want to hold onto moments when you’re not the emperor.” After the war with Prussia, his direction had shifted. That’s why I’d stayed in Vienna.
He didn’t reply.
He stepped quietly to my side.
Close enough to feel his breath.
“Then what are you today?”
“Today…”
What was I?
I turned to him, words failing.
The moment our eyes met, I felt I’d missed my chance to escape.
Feeling his hand gently encircle my waist—