The Idol of Venice
"Your Majesty, Archduke Maximilian urgently requests your visit to Milan."
Sophie Esterházy-Lichtenstein held out the telegram with a worried look.
Maximilian wanted to use my popularity to soothe the seething unrest in Milan.
"No, I'm not going to Milan."
"But Your Majesty, if you skip the capital of Lombardy, won't they think we've abandoned them?"
"We have abandoned them."
I gazed at the Alpine peaks visible through the train window.
"Milan's already a boiling cauldron. It's far past the point where my presence could cool it down. If I went and got pelted with stones, Joseph would send the army to reduce that city to ashes. Is that what you want?"
Esterházy listened quietly.
"The places we need to protect are Venice and Trieste. Lose the sea, and the empire can't breathe."
I pointed to Venice on the map.
"If Milan is anger, Venice is melancholy. You can't appease an angry man, but you can comfort a melancholy woman."
"How shall I relay this to Archduke Maximilian?"
"Tell him to meet me in Trent. It's safe there." *
I was being treated like an honored guest when I met Maximilian.
The attempted assassination of Napoleon had set the whole world abuzz.
I'd received a letter from Metternich's wife in France, mentioning secret talks with the Kingdom of Sardinia.
"They say Eugénie has been quarreling with the emperor lately."
There was only one reason for that.
France was convinced it would help unify Italy.
It had to be because of the Papal States.
"Sissi."
When Maximilian called me by my nickname so casually, Charlotte's eyes sharpened for a split second.
"You're really not going to Milan?"
"What difference would it make if I did?"
"Don't the subjects adore you?"
Didn't you two have a happy marriage...?
How could he say something like that to his brother's wife with his own wife sitting right there?
The reason the subjects liked me was simple.
I was prettier than Charlotte.
I set down my teacup with a feigned troubled smile at Maximilian's words.
"Maximilian, popularity is like sea foam. They like me because I'm a foreigner who wields no political power over them."
"But Sissi..."
"And the Archduchess sitting beside you might feel slighted."
I turned my gaze to Charlotte, who sat with a stiff expression.
"With the Archduchess supporting you so admirably, what need is there for me to step in?"
Charlotte's expression remained sour.
The princess of Belgium, brimming with ambition.
She wasn't content with her husband as Austria's number two. Even the vice-royalty of Lombardy-Venetia didn't satisfy her.
That's why she'd later drink the poisoned chalice of becoming Empress of Mexico.
...Both of them probably had issues with that choice.
Maximilian's inferiority complex toward his brother, Charlotte's toward me.
Maximilian dreaming of becoming emperor, and Charlotte unable to understand me—a woman who traveled the world from her empress's throne, avoiding politics as much as possible.
"You flatter me, Your Majesty."
Charlotte set her teacup down soundlessly.
"But inner support? Maximilian and I merely share the burden together. Isn't that what husbands and wives do?"
Her gaze flicked over Maximilian for a moment before targeting me again.
"I admire Your Majesty's wise judgment. As you say, Milan is ruled by anger and harsh reality."
Charlotte spoke with feigned concern.
"It's a place that can't be governed by flowers and smiles alone. For Your Majesty, the outsider, maintaining your popularity from a safe distance is truly the path for the good of the imperial family."
She was openly mocking me.
"Wading through the mud and handling the dirty work—that's our lot to bear. Someone has to take responsibility in place of the imperial dignity, after all."
Ah, yeah, yeah. Keep at it.
I just smiled.
Unlike Archduchess Sophie, ignoring Charlotte made her thrilled.
Look at her teacup trembling with delight.
When I showed no reaction, Charlotte drew a sharper blade.
"Speaking of which, the rumors from Bavaria are quite intriguing."
She toyed with her teacup, feigning pity.
"Your brother, Duke Ludwig... is he really renouncing his succession rights?"
News travels fast.
"All for some lowly actress, throwing away his family's honor."
Charlotte stared straight into my eyes, condemning the entire Wittelsbach house.
"It seems the Wittelsbachs have a family tradition of abandoning duty for the excuse of love."
That's aimed at me.
She's calling me irresponsible for chasing love and freedom.
"What a tragedy. Trading the noble duty of his bloodline for a moment's lust. Unthinkable in Belgium."
I let her tirade flow in one ear and out the other.
She wasn't wrong. In noble society, marrying beneath one's station was madness.
But hilarious coming from the Belgian royals, acting like they were the pinnacle of princesses.
Do I look like a duchess to her?
"So, Archduchess Charlotte, you see that as a tragedy?"
"Of course. It's a fall from grace."
"Hmm."
I smiled faintly.
"I'm actually jealous of my brother."
"...Pardon?"
Charlotte's brow furrowed.
"Think about it. To have someone he loves enough to throw away his crown for."
I traced the rim of my teacup with my finger, driving the wedge home.
"A life chosen not for status, family gain, or parental pressure... but purely for that one person."
My gaze alternated between Charlotte and Maximilian.
"Isn't that the true romance of nobility? The courage to stake everything you have."
Charlotte's face flushed with rage.
It was mockery to her, the Belgian princess who had married Maximilian solely for politics and ambition.
I ascended to empress for love, though?
Me, who chose romance to become empress, versus her, who lusted for power yet remained an archduchess.
"Of course..."
I rose, brushing off my dress.
"Someone like you, Archduchess Charlotte, who values duty above life itself, could never understand, even in death."
Oh right!
"Your brother Leopold, isn't it?"
I smiled with my eyes.
"Like family, you take after him."
Belgium's current king was also Leopold, so her brother would be known as such.
Leopold II.
His infamous nickname... Congo's wrist collector.
Let's see a nation not even 30 years old diss the Wittelsbachs.
"You have a fine brother."
I left the frozen ducal couple behind and signaled Esterházy.
"Let's go, Sophie. The air here's so stuffy I can't breathe."
Just before the door closed, I heard Maximilian's sigh.
His wife needs me, but he ruins it because he can't control his feelings... That's Belgium for you— no roots.
"He wasn't always like this."
He turns into a third-rate villain whenever he's in front of me.
I boarded the carriage and headed to the Venice villa Joseph had gifted me.
Honestly, I'd love to ditch this crown, but what's so great about it anyway?
...I'll try talking him out of Mexico before he goes.
Why is this damn family plagued with so much misfortune?
The moment I arrived in Venice, I shed the stifling imperial gown.
The lapping waves, the gondoliers' songs.
As always, I donned traditional Venetian attire and cruised the canals in a gondola, touring the city.
The subjects would fall into the water just waving at me, and the soldiers acting as water rescue didn't have time to dry their uniforms.
"Chief lady-in-waiting."
Just before reaching St. Mark's Square, I took the mask she offered.
Judging by the mood...
I placed it over my face.
The Venetian mask festival, banned since Franz II's reign.
Originally for before Lent, but...
I called out playfully to the crowd in the square.
"I'm looking for Venetian gentlemen to hide me."
The packed square of Venetians fell utterly silent, as if holding their collective breath.
The Austrian empress had appeared before them wearing a mask forbidden by imperial law.
Right in the heart of the most oppressed city, asking them to hide her.
A moment of stillness.
An old man reacted first.
With trembling hands, he removed his worn hat and clutched it to his chest.
"A gentleman never flees and leaves a lady in peril."
His words lit the fuse.
"Unfurl your cloaks!"
"Hide Venice's woman!"
Someone shouted, and cheers swept over St. Mark's Square like waves.
"Long live the Queen of Venice!"
The nobles couldn't hide their shock, while the commoners erupted in joy.
The guards panicked, hands on their swords, but I raised my hand to stop them.
Instead of threatening me, the Venetian citizens surrounded me with their cloaks spread wide.
A violin melody drifted from somewhere.
Venice, steeped in melancholy and silence, transformed in an instant into a city boiling with romance and passion.
I danced through their midst.
Some kissed the back of my hand; others tossed roses at my feet.
When I smiled, they laughed; when I waved, they cheered.
Tonight, no one in this square would curse Austria.
At least while I wore this mask, they weren't Habsburg subjects—they were my lovers, Elisabeth's.
"Your Majesty, it's getting late... You must return now..."
The guard captain pleaded, sweating bullets.
Yeah, it could turn into a crush if I'm not careful.
"Alright, too much teasing isn't good."
I blew a graceful hand-kiss to the reluctant crowd.
"Buona notte, Venezia."
The festival didn't stop even as the gondola departed.