Wishes Granted and Mustaches Shorn
Finishing my post-birth bath, I stared into the mirror and thought to myself.
Who am I?
The Empress who bore a son!
"I'm so relieved."
"Relieved about what?"
"...Lately, I've been worried about Your Majesty's health."
The lady's mood was always paramount.
Even in the early days of pregnancy, I'd heard the imperial palace felt like walking on thin ice because of Joseph's foul temper.
"Still, there's no master quite like me."
The maids fell silent in unison, as if by prior agreement.
"Enough. At first, you couldn't get enough of me."
"Your Majesty...!"
In the mirror, I grinned with delight.
The court ladies had grown up in this very atmosphere, which helped a great deal.
More precisely, the separation of public and private duties was starting to revive in the Empress's palace.
"Just kidding. The Metternich Duchess is coming today, right?"
"Yes."
My one friend in Vienna—but now it was time to part ways.
"The ambassador's wife must have it rough."
To France, if I remembered right.
I gazed out the window at the nobles bickering idiotically in front of the door.
What did it matter who entered first?
Etiquette wasn't written down like statutes.
It was custom, passed down generation after generation.
"Chief lady-in-waiting, I have a question."
"Please speak."
"How do you memorize so many rules of etiquette?"
"How... do you mean, Your Majesty?"
Sophie Esterházy-Lichtenstein fell silent for a long moment.
The other maids too.
Guess only Ida and I wonder about that.
"What should I say... It's not like you need lessons to learn how to breathe or blink, is it?"
…….
Gasp, gasp.
Ow—my eyes hurt.
Suddenly, I was hyper-aware of how to breathe and blink.
Esterházy pressed on regardless.
"Etiquette is precedent. For example, the Archduchess Sophie reviving old protocols had prior examples, and His Majesty distinguishing public from private follows Maria Theresa's precedent."
"Is that why the ladies never use ambiguous phrasing?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. You must never feel even a hint of misunderstanding or confusion from our words and actions."
So, no mixing personal opinions into their judgments.
I thought only the brutally direct survived, but no.
"Time for etiquette lessons, then."
"We shall withdraw."
While the others waited outside, I asked Esterházy,
"...So, why did you recommend a reading lady-in-waiting?"
Come on.
Esterházy embodied custom and precedent.
So why create an exception like Ida Ferenc, smashing convention head-on?
"As I recall, chief ladies, court ladies, and honorary ladies must be Stiftspfähig."
Tracing back sixteen generations for impeccable noble blood to qualify as Stiftspfähig.
But Ida Ferenc was just minor nobility.
That's why she became a reading lady instead of court lady.
"Because the loyalty of Stiftspfähig ladies is ambiguous."
"So you recommended someone loyal only to me."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
They had to represent their house's interests, houses surely under the Archduchess's sway.
"Your Majesty needed people who were yours alone."
She met my eyes in the mirror.
"Lady Ferenc is from powerless minor nobility. In this palace, she survives solely on Your Majesty's grace. Her loyalty is therefore absolute, never ambiguous."
"'You must never feel even a hint of misunderstanding or confusion from our words and actions.' You upheld that principle."
She dodged accusations of breaking custom while planting an utterly loyal aide to secure my position—fulfilling her duty.
...Scary woman.
"Now I understand why the Archduchess assigned you as my chief lady."
Esterházy bowed, showing perfect deference.
It was odd to think the top of the Empress's palace couldn't handle politics.
She'd always given straight answers, never trying to manipulate me with her own views—that's why I'd misjudged her for a moment.
"Let's start the etiquette lessons."
I needed to get at least a little familiar with them, after all.
"The Metternich Duchess has arrived."
Esterházy announced it and withdrew with the maids.
My one friend I met without ladies present.
Pauline beamed as she performed the Hofknicks.
"It's an honor to see you like this. And my heartfelt congratulations on the birth of Crown Prince Rudolf and the princess. The entire empire rejoices in Your Majesty's health and the heirs' arrival."
I approached, took her hands, and pulled her up.
"Pauline, congrats on the marriage. And becoming the French ambassador's wife. I'll miss my only friend when you leave Vienna—I'm quite miffed about it."
I patted my now-slimmed belly.
"If not for the pregnancy, I'd have gone to celebrate in person."
"Your words alone are thanks enough, Your Majesty. I should at least convey my gratitude to the two little highnesses."
"Gratitude?"
"They showed such filial piety by letting you complete a mission more important than my wedding."
"Filial piety, huh."
Pretty tough for filial piety.
The maids and midwife said it would be easier than the first, but it took a full hour longer.
"Anyway, seeing your face before you head to Paris is wonderful."
We sat and chatted right away.
"I won't be able to speak freely before Your Majesty anymore. Not after bearing the Crown Prince. Even the Archduchess has no pretext now."
Hmm... not quite.
Pauline, who'd been expectant, looked shocked.
"No way... the Archduchess took the two highnesses too?"
I nodded.
You bastard, Joseph...
Pauline held back curses, aware of who might be listening.
"But the Emperor apologized to me."
"His Majesty did?"
'Sissi, sorry... Seems Vienna's bureaucrats still trust Mother more.'
Damn it, what's the point of absolute monarchy!
Still, he'd escaped total mama's boy status a bit.
"But I scored one win."
"What do you mean?"
"I moved the nursery to the Emperor's palace."
"...The nursery?"
I nodded.
A small victory, maybe.
"Queen Maria Theresa raised her own children."
Maria Theresa was the ultimate cheat code in Habsburg history.
I couldn't create new precedents as Empress, but following existing ones? Even Joseph couldn't argue.
If I couldn't have them, neither could Sophie Archduchess.
"The Archduchess will have to clash directly with the Emperor to raise them herself—must weigh on her."
Look at me bragging.
"You wanted to ask about Empress Eugénie, right?"
Pauline took a breath.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty. No Vienna bureaucrat will dare touch the Crown Prince in the Emperor's chambers."
Pauline praised me before changing topics.
"What was Empress Eugénie like, meeting her in Paris?"
Well.
But I couldn't spill everything.
Like our good-but-bad dynamic with Napoleon III...
"They'll welcome the ambassador's wife. But she won't be thrilled."
We'd grown close, almost friends, but nationally, we were foes.
The Italian issue lingered, just patched temporarily.
"Rumor has it the French Empress takes great pride in Paris's new art and architecture. Vienna values tradition more, as you know..."
Hmm, what wins Eugénie's favor?
"Riding in the Bois de Boulogne was a fond memory."
Pauline eyed me with interest.
She was a top European rider herself.
"As an Austrian noble, will I offend her?"
How sensitive was bloodline in Paris?
"She's Spanish high nobility herself. Whether haughty French accept it is another matter."
No offense if I avoided status slips.
In Spain, a grande de España baron outranked a regular duke.
"Pauline, you're Metternich and Sándor."
House Sándor: ancient Hungarian high nobility.
"Aim for her grande de España pride."
I sipped my tea.
Among French nobles treating her as nouveau riche Empress, an Austrian ambassador's wife recognizing her true blood.
Ambassadors had authority to negotiate independently.
No harm in Pauline befriending the Empress.
Joseph stared sadly into the mirror.
'My mustache...'
The mustache he'd grown was gone without a trace.
His fingers trembled involuntarily, stroking the smooth skin.
Cold, unfamiliar, humiliating.
At eighteen, still boyish when he donned the imperial crown, it had been his armor to look emperor-like.
A mask for ministers, army, and even his mother—to play the adult.
But now the mirror showed an awkward youth with a ridiculous expression.
'Sissi, sorry... Seems Vienna's bureaucrats still trust Mother more.'
Yes, he'd said that.
'Really? Then Joseph, grant my wish now.'
Sissi had surely thrown a fit, insisting she'd raise the children, and he'd promised anything.
'Shave that mustache right now.'
"...".
Joseph gazed sadly at the boy in the mirror again.
"Hah."
With a deep sigh, Joseph headed to the marital bedchamber for sleep.
"Wow, Joseph! You look so much better now."
Sissi greeted him with a radiant smile and praise.
"Really... do I?"
"Of course. Much neater and sharper—way better."
Joseph felt a faint relief at her words.