The Emperor Does Not Understand People's Hearts
"My empress, are you still angry?"
Who the hell are you, and why are you riding in the same carriage as me?
I ignored Franz Joseph's words completely, my eyes scanning the list of names from the Lombardy-Venetia Kingdom.
Among the persons of interest: Clara Maffei.
Salonnière of the Salotto Maffei. On the surface, just an ordinary salon, but in reality, the epicenter of the Italian unification movement.
Giuseppe Verdi, whom she patronizes—I think I heard of him in music class.
"Are you interested in that fellow?"
"No."
If that woman is backing him, it means Giuseppe Verdi wants independence from Austria too.
"He's also called the Wagner of Italy."
Franz Joseph kept talking even though I responded indifferently.
"And Wagner is infamous as a republican."
"You said no politics."
I turned my gaze out the window, where Milan Cathedral was drawing steadily closer.
But it's not as fierce as I thought.
A lot of the subjects seemed to be waving and cheering as our carriage passed.
"Not everyone wants Italy."
"Hm, true. There are traitors like Borromeo, but most nobles opposed unification."
I listened to Franz Joseph chattering excitedly.
"That's when Field Marshal Radetzky stepped in—"
He seemed a bit thrilled.
"He first crushed the Venetian revolt, then marched on Milan—"
...They called him a soldier-emperor, and he really does love the military.
I tapped the seat beside me.
"I wish you'd been there for that story—"
Keep going.
"And the Milanese nobles in Vienna—"
No.
What do I do with this clueless emperor?
Franz Joseph couldn't contain his overflowing excitement and fervor, ranting on until just before we reached the palace.
Franz Joseph fidgeted anxiously, watching Sisi's angry glare even as they entered the Milan palace.
'Wasn't that meant to make peace?'
Sisi had asked about Italian unification first, so he'd simply answered in line with her interests. Why was she angry again?
Franz Joseph couldn't figure it out at all.
'Deciphering a battlefield map would be easier.'
That night, the welcome banquet at the Milan palace was the pinnacle of splendor.
But Franz Joseph's heart was far from the glamour filling the hall.
He mechanically returned the fawning greetings of the nobles while his gaze fixed on the white-haired old general.
Finally resolved, Franz Joseph excused himself and approached the Viceroy of the Lombardy-Venetia Kingdom, Field Marshal Joseph Radetzky.
"Marshal, I need a word."
The over-eighty-year-old veteran didn't bow but met the young emperor with eyes full of respect.
"Anytime, Your Majesty."
Franz Joseph led him to a quiet balcony. The cool night air eased his stuffy chest a little.
"Marshal."
Franz Joseph spoke first.
"Do you know anything about a woman's heart?"
At that innocent question, Radetzky doubted his own ears for a moment.
He'd roamed battlefields for over sixty years, piercing the schemes of Napoleon and countless enemy commanders, but no question had ever been this unpredictable.
'What does he mean by that...'
His own marriage had been a laughingstock not just in Viennese society but across Europe. His extravagant wife, lifelong discord and separation, and the lonely bereavement earlier this year.
His marriage was a Thirty Years' War without victory, and he was its clear loser.
"Your Majesty."
He finally answered the emperor's question.
"A woman's heart was unlike any battlefield I've fought my life on. On the field, you see the enemy's banners, map supply lines, use terrain for victory. Everything follows logic. But Your Majesty, it's like a fortress in the fog."
Franz Joseph waited silently for more.
"I've lived by breakthroughs my whole life. But that fortress wouldn't yield. Bombard it, and the fog thickens; climb the walls, and they grow higher."
He ended with a bitter smile.
"So the only advice I dare give is this, Your Majesty: the only victory there is not to fight."
Radetzky returned to the banquet hall.
"Perhaps it's not a fortress to conquer, but land to wait for the fog to lift. Too tough a battlefield for an old soldier like me."
Left alone, Franz Joseph pondered the riddle.
Banquets are always exhausting.
Doesn't suit someone like me...
If asked if it was fun, I could say it was at least somewhat enjoyable.
"Chief lady-in-waiting. I want to relieve my fatigue."
"I'll prepare the bath at once, Your Majesty."
Franz Joseph hadn't approached me once during the banquet.
Even if he's clueless, come on.
At the first event introducing the empress to Milanese nobles, going to the balcony with just Radetzky?
If that's how it is, date Radetzky then.
From the carriage ride here, it was all Radetzky this, Field Marshal Radetzky that, Viceroy Radetzky.
Sage Tristan was right. The emperor doesn't understand people's hearts.
I slipped into the steaming bathtub, finding peace of mind and body.
The one perfect service in this court that never disappoints me.
"Empress."
Franz Joseph's voice came from outside.
Visiting while I'm bathing.
The ladies-in-waiting froze mid-motion, bowed silently to me, and swiftly vanished from the bathroom.
"Come in."
I felt his silhouette draw closer behind the screen.
"Sorry about the carriage earlier. I talked too much about myself."
"It's fine. I heard all about Field Marshal Radetzky's great achievements. And how much Your Majesty respects him."
"Sorry for leaving you alone at the banquet too. I had something to discuss with the marshal..."
I slowly rose in the water.
"You two must have had something very important to discuss. You were on that balcony forever."
The nobles had mocked me so much.
"The young empress who just arrived in Milan, ignored by her husband at her first banquet—they treated it like prime entertainment."
"What do you mean! No one would dare mock the empress!"
I could hear the panic in Franz Joseph's voice.
I wrapped myself in the thick towel nearby and stepped forward to the screen.
"As emperor, Your Majesty wouldn't notice, but I was surrounded by enemies the whole banquet, Your Majesty."
"Lombardy's security is my greatest duty as emperor."
"Duty?"
Oh, please.
"Then what was my duty? To hold your empty seat, smiling through looking like a discarded wife? It was my first banquet. You know that?"
Not even one I wanted.
"Sisi..."
"Your duty at tonight's banquet should have been to be the devoted emperor-husband to his empress."
What was the point of this marriage?
To create a festive mood across the empire with the marriage of the lovestruck young emperor and beautiful empress.
"When Your Majesty ascended the throne, to establish authority not just as a strong monarch but as the subjects' patriarch, that's why we're touring the empire."
I left without looking back.
The young maids couldn't hide their bewilderment.
"Chief lady-in-waiting. The water's cooled; it's not comfortable for bathing."
"I'll assist with bedtime preparations, Your Majesty."
How do I make this emperor, sunk in his role, into a proper one?
I need him on my side to gain my freedom.
I tried to sleep, but my mind was tangled.
Today's a loss.
With emotions running high, better not to meet.
Tomorrow morning, dress as if nothing happened, appear before the emperor. Spend the rest of Milan naturally together, show the nobles seamlessly.
The bedroom door opened silently, slowly.
'Again, in the middle of the night.'
Irritation surged, but Sisi didn't stir.
She breathed regularly, pretending deep sleep.
Faint footsteps crossed the carpet, stopping by the bed.
Franz Joseph said nothing, just gazed down at Sisi.
'What does he want? An apology? Excuse? Or imperial face?'
Unlike Sisi's thoughts, Franz Joseph simply watched her for a long time.
In the dark, her exhausted sleeping face in the faint moonlight recalled Radetzky's words.
'My carriage chatter was bombardment, leaving her alone at the banquet piled the walls higher.'
He couldn't rebut her bathroom words.
It wasn't mere whining; she'd pointed out the emperor failing his duty to the empress.
While he pondered Lombardy as soldier-emperor, she pondered the empire's image as empress.
Unknowingly, his hand reached toward her cheek, but he pulled back, clenching his fist.
Instead, he pulled up the slipped blanket to cover her neck.
'An emperor must not have emotions.'
The rule his mother Sophie had taught to make him emperor.
Franz Joseph left as quietly as he'd come.
"......"
Confirming the door close, Sisi slowly opened her eyes.
"What...?"