Ah! Cheaper Than Cotton!
Ah! Cheaper than cotton! Kyaa, for the first time, I won.
Today's meat and beer taste so good.
To Mother-in-law, it was practically a decision victory, and Bismarck... well, national weight class made it unavoidable. We were bigger, but barely operating at half capacity.
Belgium has the money, but Leopold doesn't. Satisfied with protecting Charlotte's funds.
If I could have stripped off their masks entirely, that would've been even better, but I'll save that joy for later.
Like saving the best chocolate for last.
"Phew."
Finally, I can exercise without a care in the world.
Mother-in-law shook it off to some extent and got up from her seat.
...Though it seems she's completely let go of power.
Next time I go to Bavaria, I should buy some beer and give her a little.
She pretends otherwise, but she subtly loves her hometown food.
I entered the gym intending to do some pull-ups.
Beer might as well be water... but still risky.
If even I get hurt here, who's going to hold things together?
Better stick to the cycle.
"Königseck, Baku—Russia's still giving the same reaction?"
"It seems the Nobel side has staked their all on it."
Uh-huh, got it.
Russia was unavoidable. Pre-privatization, no room for me to step in, and I was late entering because I was busy snapping up more important oil fields.
"How far along are we in America?"
"Nearly 90% secured in Pennsylvania. Three Cleveland refineries fully acquired, and for twenty others, Your Majesty has taken massive stakes to become the largest shareholder."
Hmm, not bad at all.
You have no idea how shocked I was to hear refinery prices were cheaper than cotton.
The cost of one cotton factory could buy anywhere from ten to fifty refineries.
"The Archduchess mentioned that Your Highness is engaging in far too risky a gamble..."
To outsiders, it must look like high risk, high return.
"It's not like Nambae stock. This is a real asset—no need to worry."
This is zero risk, high return...
Hmm... but that's not reassuring her?
"I'm not speculating—I'm investing centered on refining. The falling crude prices are actually a boon right now."
Buy cheap raw materials, sell high.
Of course, we're also producing our own crude in Pennsylvania and running the refining alongside it.
Königseck handles my personal finances, so she knows that... this must be her way of saying how she'll respond going forward.
"Baron Rothschild asked me to pass along that he has a way to boost profits."
"What's the pitch?"
"Using rebates on rail freight payments—linking up with rail companies that way."
"Rebates on freight?"
I asked while pedaling hard.
"The Rothschilds say they've done similar negotiations multiple times with American rail companies via their branches. Especially now, with the massive Cleveland refinery acquisitions, it's the perfect opportunity."
"How exactly?"
"Keep official rates the same, but in exchange for guaranteeing large, stable cargo volumes, get the freight costs rebated."
Ah, not much different from what we're already doing.
It's like subsidizing the rails and recouping via corporate taxes.
"Any issues?"
We're Habsburgs, after all—not some Coburgs.
"They say it's industry standard, no problems."
"Then do it."
"Understood."
"How's Bobrka?"
"Production is up about fourfold compared to two years ago."
Oh, that's a big jump.
Need to save up quick to help with Joseph's army reforms and set up more companies for him.
Higher production means higher population.
Now I can really visit without issue.
"Time to reward the Tschechieski family's loyalty."
I'll sneak a peek at the oil fields. Money this easy to make, and he'd eye his brother's inheritance?
First things first—beer for Mother-in-law.
*
While I was engrossed in snapping up refineries, the world kept turning without pause.
"Prince Otto."
"It's been a while, Your Majesty."
"Countess Hohenems, they say."
I met Otto in Kissingen.
Looks better than the rumors?
The problem was he still looked depressed, like Mother-in-law after losing her son—a young man in his twenties.
"I've been discourteous, Countess Hohenems."
As the top marriage prospect right now, he was worth keeping an eye on.
A little attention, and I could win him over completely... maybe Sophie's positive energy would bring him back to life?
"Relax, relax."
I dropped the teasing.
"Ludwig's been worrying about you a lot."
"My brother?"
"Yeah, says it pains him that his only little brother lost his smile—begged me to help, so I called you here."
I opened lightly and sat across from him, crossing my legs comfortably.
Kissingen was one of Bavaria's top resorts.
Later famous as Bad-Kissingen for its spas.
Nothing better for the soul than a relaxed vibe and human warmth.
"Even my kids prefer Prague over Vienna. You have no idea the hassle to drag them back."
"Haha... is that so?"
"Otto."
"Yes, Auntie."
"Auntie? Call me sis—casual."
"How could I..."
How could you what.
I laughed lightly and leaned forward a bit.
"Your brother wrote on my birthday gift: 'To my one and eternal goddess, my beloved Sisi.' Joseph saw it and threw a fit about challenging him to a duel—I barely stopped him."
It was my thirtieth birthday; Ludwig had exaggerated to cheer up my gloomy self.
At my embellished reveal, Otto's stiff lips relaxed just a touch.
"So call me casual. We're both Witelsbachs."
"...Understood. Sis."
The awkward pronunciation was pure innocent youth.
I glanced at the empty teacup on the table.
"So, nephew—refined tea? Or Bavarian-style cool beer?"
"Tea, please. Can't get drunk in the daytime."
"Oh my, a Bavarian prince dodging beer."
"...Then just half a glass, if I may."
"Good."
I smiled happily and signaled the servant.
"To the peace of the Witelsbachs."
"...To the Witelsbachs."
What are you doing? In Austria, we can't toast openly with Hungary watching.
Otto hesitated before clinking glasses, then sipped carefully.
Forgetting my empress dignity, I downed half in one cool go.
Kuh, hometown beer is the best.
Vienna's is great, but this heavy Bavarian flavor is something else.
Pair it with chicken... too bad it got vetoed for the court table.
Raw beef juice was fine, though. Hmph.
I set down my glass and tossed out casually,
"Battlefields are just awful, aren't they."
Otto's shoulders twitched at my light mutter.
Yup, war was the issue.
"It's my weakness."
"Nonsense—you stuck it out to the end, that's why it's hard. That alone makes you a proud Witelsbach prince. No need to put yourself down."
"...Rather, I think the resilient one is Your Majesty the Empress. You've endured Solferino and the Prussian War."
"Maybe I couldn't have alone."
I secretly signaled the maids.
Bring her now.
"Without the Emperor and the kids, I might've crumbled like you."
"Mother."
Otto's gaze naturally turned toward the sound.
"Sophie."
I beamed and welcomed Sophie.
Her flowing summer dress radiated free-spirited energy.
"Was the walk fun?"
"Yes, the hill was full of flowers. I wanted to pick some..."
Sophie glanced at Otto by way of explanation.
"Greet him, Sophie. This is Bavaria's Prince Otto."
"Pleased to meet you, Prince Otto. I'm Sophie of Austria."
Sophie lightly gathered her skirt and curtsied with a playful smile.
"Ah... Otto of Bavaria. It's an honor."
Done. Smitten at first sight.
I smoothly arranged seats for the two and stepped back.
"Königseck, the garden should be free now, right?"
"Understood."
I moved to the prepped spot and leisurely watched their backs.
Otto looked just like... yeah, the soldiers trembling under Joseph's blessings at a review.
Like a soldier shaking when the Emperor offers good words.
Too far to hear clearly, but I saw Sophie brightly laughing and pointing at roadside wildflowers.
Perfect.
Just like in a romance novel!
Look at those fresh young man and woman walking side by side up the hill path. Isn't that a tale of salvation?
Otto smiled, following her fingertip to the flowers.
A prince trapped in long darkness, and the girl who was his first light.
Getting old? My sensibilities are getting mushy lately.
As I watched the budding romance from behind, clutching my handkerchief.
A servant suddenly appeared to Otto; he listened, then nodded with a darkened expression.
Königseck sized up the situation and approached me.
"An issue between France and Prussia over the Spanish throne succession."
Spanish throne succession?
Ah.
The Ems Dispatch incident.