The Empress's Salon
Sophie Esterházy-Lichtenstein knew better than anyone how fiercely the Archduchess Sophie craved power—and how desperately she clung to it. In 1848, she had thrust her frail husband aside and placed her son on the throne, saving the empire from crisis. She saw herself as the empire's sole guardian. Having the maids confirm her authority through the daughter-in-law was a shrewd move. The Archduchess would never reveal her hand directly.
From Sophie's perspective, Sisi wasn't just a simple daughter-in-law—she was a potential rival. If the empress built her own faction in the palace and began influencing the emperor, Sophie would truly have no choice but to retreat to the back rooms. Esterházy gazed at the empress, who still appeared innocently naive. Pondering which dress to wear today while eyeing those held by the maids, she looked every bit the girl of her age.
Her emotions are still too transparent... but sometimes, that makes things easier. At a formal event demanding her usual stern demeanor, Esterházy would have reminded her of protocol as a subject. But revealing the empress entangled in palace politics here in the salon? They wouldn't let their guard down—they'd move with even greater caution.
"We'll go with this one today."
The empress had chosen. A late Empire-style dress that exuded a free-spirited air. Esterházy nodded inwardly and ordered the maids.
"Go to His Majesty's reception room and check the final preparations for the salon."
This was the signal that the empress and Esterházy wished to speak alone. Once the others had filed out, only the two remained.
"Do you remember who's invited today?"
Esterházy began her final briefing. A single misstep by the empress could reflect poorly on Sisi.
"Eduard von Bauernfeld and Johann Strauss II. They're constitutional monarchists who want freedoms guaranteed for the press and arts. The Archduchess's power stems from the emperor's absolute authority, so these artists will undermine that foundation, right?"
Esterházy nodded, waiting for the empress to name the next.
"The Duke of Teschen, Archduke Albrecht, Archduke Maximilian, Archduke Karl Ludwig, Archduchess Maria Anna, and Archduke Ludwig Viktor. Among them, the ones we need to court are Archduke Maximilian and Archduke Albrecht, if I recall."
Archduke Albrecht and Archduke Maximilian weren't dissatisfied with the system—they were dissatisfied with Sophie. Albrecht opposed her constant meddling in military affairs, while Maximilian, influenced by liberalism and pro-French, stood in direct opposition to her. Esterházy added one final name.
"And Baron Rothschild. He's unhappy about the Archduchess ruining the economy."
Sisi lingered on the Rothschild name.
"Rothschild... Rothschild... Roschild?"
Esterházy nodded at Sisi's reaction and explained the family.
"A Jewish house, but through their network spanning Europe, they wield immense influence. When the Erste Bank turned its back on the Archduchess, they immediately founded the Creditanstalt Bank. The Rothschilds are the faction maintaining neutrality between those two banks."
Sisi's eyes widened as realization dawned.
"The Rothschild family!"
"That's what they call them in England."
To Sisi, the name Rothschild carried a weight far beyond that of an ordinary European banker.
Should've led with Rothschild. Always introduced alongside Jewish conspiracy theories—the poster child of plots. Compared to what I know, it's barely Freemason level.
Sisi decided this was her chance to tap a new source of funds through a chat with the Rothschilds.
Whew. I took a deep breath and stood before the door. Unlike the Archduchess Sophie's drab, heavy audience chamber, this place was dazzlingly brilliant. Ornate white-and-gold Rococo decorations swirled across walls and ceilings, reflected in a thousand shards by the massive Bohemian crystal chandelier. Red velvet chairs were scattered like islands, prioritizing intimate conversation over strict hierarchy.
Or so Esterházy had explained. And she'd do it this way from now on, too.
Esterházy whispered her final briefing at my side.
"Your Majesty, remember: you mustn't try to do everything like the Archduchess Sophie."
I nodded faintly and glanced sideways at her. Not performers or conductors, but patrons and critics of them both. Esterházy checked the guest list from across the room, then gave me the tiniest nod. At her signal to the footman, the salon doors closed soundlessly. The piano melody, the murmurs, the clink of glasses—all cut off.
Moments later, the doors swung wide again. The footman stepped just inside the threshold and rapped his staff sharply on the floor.
"Her Majesty the Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary!"
As his cry ended, everyone in the room rose in unison to pay homage. Like at the tea party. It's been a while. But unlike then, I was the highest-ranking person here—and this was my salon. At the tea party, my Hungarian had drawn criticism to Sophie too, but I couldn't afford that now.
I swept the room slowly, then took my first step inside as rehearsed.
Archduke Albrecht... is that him? As I approached, he looked up at once. The Duke of Teschen—what had he said at our first meeting? Something about his father, the Napoleonic Wars hero, Archduke Karl? I opened with a playful tone.
"Your Highness, I hear there's a waltz you've been saving just for tonight."
With those words, everyone in the room stirred back to life. I gave a light gesture toward Johann Strauss II at the piano. As he began playing, I exchanged casual banter.
"Most waltzes sound the same these days, don't they?"
"Exactly. Everyone's too busy minding etiquette."
I shared light jokes with Albrecht and caught the faint smile crossing his face.
"You have a free spirit."
I knew this was political ground, but I didn't want to arouse Sophie's suspicions.
"With music this splendid, wouldn't it be rude if our court stayed too quiet?"
Today's concept: an artistic empress who adores music and hates stuffiness. My maids here would be my eyes and ears, reporting every word spoken. He glanced at Esterházy behind me, then said,
"Might I grant the others a chance to pay their respects to Your Majesty?"
He'd already formed his judgment of me.
"Of course."
Confirming Archduke Albrecht's polite withdrawal, I scanned for my next target: Joseph's brother, Sophie's favorite son. Joseph disliked Maximilian because of her, if nothing else. Duty made Joseph emperor; joy made Maximilian her son.
There he was, deep in heated debate with Bauernfeld in one corner. Even in his stiff military uniform, he showed no awkwardness among nobles. His lively expressions and gestures revealed a temperament worlds apart from Joseph's.
As I approached, his conversation partners paused to bow.
"Please, continue. It seems a fascinating topic."
I extended my hand to Maximilian, and he responded as if he'd been waiting. As he lightly kissed the back of it, his curious eyes met mine.
"An honor. I never imagined Her Majesty took an interest in theater."
"Of course."
I dredged up the info Esterházy had given me.
"When I saw a play at La Scala in Milan, I spotted your influence—and hoped we'd chat someday."
The memory of the insult I'd received at La Scala nearly cracked my expression, but I forced my lips upward. At the mention of La Scala, Maximilian reminisced.
"My greatest achievement. The passion of the artists I met on my travels was incredible. But..."
He trailed off. To Sophie and Joseph, his liberal governance had been an eyesore, and patronage of La Scala was eventually forbidden.
"I love beautiful things."
I signaled a footman for wine and murmured softly,
"And I'm always fascinated by the new. I took after my father, Duke Maximilian of Bavaria. Vienna's waltzes are splendid, but how was the air in Paris?"
A thick smile played on his lips.
"Just as Your Majesty says. New air, new ideas... and new art to capture them, like your exquisite gown."
He complimented my dress and stepped closer.
"Though none as beautiful as Your Majesty's, of course. This salon of yours is the most refreshing spot I've found in Vienna."
"... "
This guy...? I stepped back half a pace and snapped open my fan with a sharp crack. The barrier it created pushed him back exactly the distance he'd closed. Long-dormant instincts awakened to protect me. My existence as a woman was only within the frame of being Joseph's empress. I didn't want any other man seeing me that way.
"Yes, we all need a breath of fresh air now and then."
Thanks for saying I'm more beautiful than Eugénie, but I didn't want it turning into scandal. The emperor—no, even if—but flirting with your sister-in-law? Maximilian blinked his wide eyes a few times, then slithered past like a sly fox.
"Your salon makes me feel like the boatman facing Lorelei for a moment."
Was the Lorelei he mentioned beauty, ruin, or both? He smoothly introduced his debate partner.
"Might you hear Bauernfeld's thoughts as well?"
I veiled my lips with the fan and smiled only with my eyes.
"Of course. I've heard he's the one who sets the empire's trends."
You got my intent, and you understood my warning—so let's bury it here.