The Grand Banquet of Lights
Back in the Hofburg Palace as a foreigner once more, I went straight to find Franz Joseph.
He probably never imagined himself as King of Germany.
“I never dreamed you'd compromise with Bohemia.”
“Sophie is marrying Prince Otto.”
Ah, so that's it…
Amid the culture wars, Franz Joseph sent a message to Prussia not to impose autonomy on South Germany.
That makes sense.
For now, the Bohemia compromise ends here.
“You summoned me for the banquet, right?”
“I missed you too.”
“Then can I go now? Thanks to your gift, I've had quite the fun time.”
Franz Joseph chuckled at my joke and grabbed my hand.
“I need you.”
“You mean soothe Hungary and Lombardy-Venetia?”
He nodded.
“My ways frighten them, but yours make them love the empire.”
It's common knowledge across Europe that I favor minority ethnic groups.
“Hungary thought they'd be the empire's sole partner, but Bohemia snatched that spot first, and now even the Italians feel sidelined by the Bohemia deal.”
“Tell me more.”
I need to know exactly where the discontent lies so I can target it.
Franz Joseph started with Hungary.
“The Bohemia model was similar to what we offered Hungary, but striking the deal with Bohemia instead bruised their nobles' pride.”
“We should let them know you still see Hungary as the empire's partner. Any thoughts on giving them an honorary position?”
“Even the foreign minister post.”
“Isn't Duke Metternich sitting there now?”
“The chancellorship will open soon.”
Promote Duke Metternich to chancellor and put a Hungarian in foreign minister?
“I'll float that idea subtly. What's Lombardy-Venetia's gripe?”
“Venetia has fewer complaints; Lombardy is the real issue.”
“Industry-related, I bet.”
The commercial capitalist class had been suppressing Milanese nobles' nationalism, but if the capitalists are unhappy now, that's no good sign.
“How about expanding their section at next year's exhibition?”
“As a last resort.”
“No changes to administrative regulations?”
“High chance of shifting to free trade.”
To appease Bohemia, there was no other way.
Lombardy's capitalists would inevitably grow anxious about market competition sidelining them.
“I'll need to tweak the scholarship list.”
Have to add more Italians.
But after stealing my vacation…
“And my compensation?”
“What compensation?”
“What will you give me for taking my vacation?”
“The most expensive dress in Vienna.”
“One? That'll do it?”
“How about that jewel you eyed at the last exhibition.”
Sigh. Looks like I'm spoon-feeding him again.
“Something besides money.”
“Let's vacation together in the Tiergarten.”
“Perfect.”
Should've said that from the start.
Hofburg Palace grand banquet hall.
Before it begins, I'm doing a final check with Franz Joseph.
Thousands of finest beeswax candles and massive chandeliers.
“Do you know how much work I put into preparing this?”
Along the long banquet tables, amid black-and-gold Habsburg tableware symbolizing the dynasty, I'd decorated with red and white roses for Bohemia. Hungarian Herend porcelain and Venetian glass wine goblets too.
This setup should minimize gripes at a single table.
I'd wanted to use Bohemia crystal glasses as the star for tonight's protagonists, but I couldn't completely ignore Italy.
“Thanks to you, no one feels left out.”
Franz Joseph planted a light kiss on my forehead.
Everyone's watching.
I led Franz Joseph to the dais.
“Shall we add national flags too?”
“No, this should suffice.”
Placed beside our Austrian imperial crown, the St. Wenceslas Crown symbolized Bohemia now partnering with the empire.
I'd initially wanted other crowns too, but Hungary and Italy both refused.
That would've looked even better.
“The banquet starts with Bohemia beer and tafelspitz.”
Franz Joseph nodded, imagining the taste.
“Excellent metaphor.”
“But we can't just cater to Bohemia. Second course: Milanese risotto and Venetian seafood for Lombardy-Venetia nobles' tastes.”
“And Hungary?”
“Tokay wine and Esterházy torte.”
Starting with Bohemia, through Italy, ending with Hungary—the empire in sequence.
“With this lineup, circling the Hungarian and Italian tables should be less exhausting, right?”
Austria was always the protagonist anyway.
“Well done. But isn't that double-headed eagle lighting too dim?”
“It brightens at the banquet's start.”
Just wait. I'll show staging even musicals haven't seen.
Banquet night arrived.
As we entered, the grand hall doors swung open.
The master of ceremonies struck his staff on the floor.
“His Imperial and Royal Apostolic Majesty—”
Emperor and King, Apostolic Majesty.
“His Majesty, King of Bohemia!”
As we ascended the dais, the hall's illuminating candles extinguished in unison.
“What's happening?”
“An accident right at the start.”
“Bad luck.”
Just wait a bit. Franz Joseph and I stood unflinching; attendants swiftly took their positions.
At the signal, pre-installed gas lamps ignited.
The light bathed the imperial crown behind us. Then the second ignition.
This time, the St. Wenceslas Crown beside it glowed.
At that moment, Franz Joseph stepped forward.
“Today, the Emperor of Austria is also King of Bohemia.”
Finally, the Habsburg double-headed eagle emblem slowly emerged, adorning his back.
“For centuries, these two crowns have upheld each other as pillars of the empire.
We have decided to move beyond past misunderstandings, standing on equal respect. As Europe's order shakes and threats loom beyond our borders.
And today's resolution is not the end. It is a promise that all kingdoms and subjects under this empire will preserve their dignity.”
Lifting Bohemia's pride sky-high, warning off foreign powers, and reassuring other uneasy ethnic groups that this is just the beginning—they'll be respected too. Whoever wrote this for the emperor did a stellar job.
Franz Joseph raised his wine glass high.
“To the brotherhood of Austria and Bohemia.”
“Long live the Emperor!” “Long live the King of Bohemia!”
His toast echoed through the hall as candelabras and chandeliers blazed to life.
Bohemian nobles, overcome with emotion, clinked glasses fervently; even stiff German nobles bowed under the emperor's overwhelming staging and authority, lifting their glasses in submission.
Good—Act One success.
Now to soothe Hungary and Italy as Franz Joseph requested.
As the banquet heated up, he signaled me to mingle freely.
I headed to where Duke San Pietro and Count Andrássy were conversing.
“Count Andrássy, how about riding together again sometime?”
Andrássy smiled warmly.
“My wife eagerly awaits the day she rides with Your Majesty again.”
“Could you introduce the gentleman you're chatting with? If he's your friend, I'd love to join the conversation.”
“This is Duke San Pietro. He wields the pen to debate the world and passionately shapes public opinion.”
Ah, the press—troublesome.
“Tommaso Galateri Scotti, at your service. Unlike the count's grand introduction, I merely sponsor La Bilancia, La Civiltà Cattolica, and L'Osservatore Cattolico from behind the scenes.”
All conservative outlets.
A true journalist.
Unlike Risorgimento, they write pro-Habsburg pieces.
“Your splendid newspapers have been guiding Lombardy subjects on the righteous path.”
For a first meeting, that was plenty.
“Thanks for Your Majesty's undeserved praise. But lately, my writers' quills grow heavy. Milan's capitalists fear their factories halting under 'free trade,' and clergy worry the empire's Bohemia pact neglects church authority.”
Classic conservative gripe. Change equals threat. Andrássy sipped wine pretending ignorance, but Hungary lost the partner spot to Bohemia too—he's curious.
Today's theme works perfectly.
“Duke, I've felt fear like yours before.”
Evita's protagonist, Eva Perón.
“There were days in Vienna's cold walls when I longed for Bavaria's free air. They called me a 'foreigner,' censoring my every move under 'tradition.' The future was unknown, and I hated it all.”
I cast my gaze down slightly, feigning vulnerability—like Eva Perón baring her pain to forge empathy.
“But did you see those lights the emperor revealed tonight? Just as he saved me and Bohemia, he can save you too.”
“But Risorgimento claims this compromise worsens disparities between Lombardy and Venetia.”
“That won't happen. If he didn't value foreigners, how could he love and rely on one like me?”
Who among the nobles could object when the emperor cherishes me—and by extension, will embrace them?