Metternich's Eternal Silence
Upon hearing the news of Metternich's funeral, we returned to Vienna first.
"I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise."
"It's not like you completely failed to keep it... right?"
The news arrived just as preparations for the coronation were in full swing.
"It's just a postponement of the Prague schedule, not a cancellation. And for Duke Metternich's funeral, you couldn't possibly stay away."
The streets of Vienna visible through the window lay shrouded in gloom, as if mourning the death of a giant.
I'd only met him once in person.
Three years ago—that was the last time.
Back then, I was too busy defending my own room.
'Thank you sincerely for becoming good friends with my daughter-in-law.'
What had he seen in me? Pure friendship, or the dangerous ideas that could shatter the balance of the Vienna system he'd built?
Were his words truly out of concern for his daughter-in-law, or had he pinned his hopes on me, suffocating under the shadow of Archduchess Sophie?
The carriage entered the road leading to the cathedral.
Black mourning banners hung limply from every building.
Metternich had left me with nothing but questions and retreated into eternal silence.
"Yosha, what was Duke Metternich like to you?"
Franz Joseph paused in thought before answering.
"My teacher, and sometimes a wall I wanted to surpass. But now that the wall has crumbled... I feel like I'm standing alone in an open field."
At last, the carriage came to a stop. Franz Joseph alighted first and extended his hand to me. I took it carefully and stepped down.
"But with you by my side, that field doesn't feel so cold."
This man flirts at the drop of a hat.
I looked up at the cathedral.
St. Stephen's Cathedral.
The very place where Franz Joseph and I had held our wedding.
...Back then, I never imagined he'd take my side.
In the old days, I'd have slipped my hand away under my mother-in-law's watchful eye from afar, standing awkwardly. Now, he gripped my hand even tighter.
People only change once they have something to lose—or after they've lost it.
"Don't be nervous."
"...I'm not nervous."
"Then why are your hands so sweaty?"
"Tch."
Franz Joseph called my name in embarrassment, but there was no edge to his voice.
It was more like a petulant whine.
A place where life and death intersect is bound to feel strange, no matter what.
Beneath the magnificent stained glass, nobles who had once pulled the strings of the empire and high clergy stood in a wave of black.
And in the very front row.
There was Archduchess Sophie, standing as rigid as ever, like a black marble statue.
The real wall between Franz Joseph and me.
If Metternich had been his political mentor, the Archduchess was his spiritual overlord.
Yet even she seemed a little smaller today.
An open field.
Franz Joseph's words echoed in my ears.
With the great breakwater of Metternich gone, the storms heading for the empire would now crash directly onto the emperor's throne. And onto me, sitting beside it.
I stole a glance at my husband's profile.
His lips were pressed tight, his forward gaze wavering.
Fear? Sorrow?
It didn't matter.
What mattered was that, in this moment, the man he could lean on wasn't his mother ahead, but me at his side.
I tightened our interlaced fingers a bit more.
"Let's go. The empire is waiting for you."
At my whisper, Franz Joseph drew a short breath and nodded.
We headed to the imperial family pews, and I naturally took the seat beside Archduchess Sophie.
"You've done something amusing to Franz, dear."
Since when did she call me "dear" so affectionately?
"Well, Franz Joseph doesn't want to be Emperor of the Germans."
That was where I'd been mistaken.
Franz Joseph didn't want a unified Germany.
"The Emperor of the Germans is the root of us Habsburgs."
Archduchess Sophie muttered under her breath, pretending to sing the hymn.
Franz Joseph was a conservative emperor.
That's why he hated change.
"He wants the status quo. He hopes for the loose German Confederation as it is now, using the empire's ethnic groups."
He hated forcibly unifying Germany and abandoning Austria's non-German territories.
He was Emperor of the Habsburgs, after all.
"Nationalism is like an unavoidable natural disaster."
"Mother, you have to get the cause and effect right. They rose up like a natural disaster because we favored German nationalism and oppressed the others."
"Does that mean we Habsburgs must abandon our identity as Germans?"
"Of course. The root of the Habsburgs isn't King of the Germans—it's Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire."
The Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, who had ruled Italy, Bohemia, and Hungary since ancient times.
"I don't understand why His Majesty should become a narrow-minded monarch for Germans alone."
"It's nothing but absurd idealism. The Holy Roman Empire? Dragging the ghost of a dead empire out at a dead man's funeral."
"I'm talking about the essence, not a ghost."
"The Emperor of the Germans is the essence of the Habsburgs. And the Holy Roman Empire you speak of—wasn't it the Holy Roman Empire of the German nation?"
"That's exactly what's wrong."
My mother-in-law's eyes widened as if she'd heard something she shouldn't have.
Who would dare contradict her, the Duchess of Bavaria and the emperor's mother?
The Empress Dowager might have, but my aunt was less involved in politics.
"By your logic, Mother, are the people of Bohemia, Hungary, and the rest of the empire just colonial slaves under a German emperor?"
"Loyalty to the emperor is all they need."
"Loyalty isn't free. Even if you turn the clock back, that time will come again eventually."
Winter always gives way to spring.
And someday, the spring of 1848 might return to an empire where the seeds of freedom have been sown.
The only eternal way to avoid that time is to become like Metternich in his coffin—frozen in time itself.
"You can't dam a river forever, Mother."
Before the dam breaks, redirect the flow and let new shoots grow.
That was when Franz Joseph, watching silently between us, spoke up.
"Enough, both of you. This is the path of the departed. I understand your concerns for the empire's future, but now is the time for prayer for the dead, not bickering."
"...My apologies, Your Majesty."
"I'm sorry, Your Imperial Highness Dowager Empress."
Even my mother-in-law and I had to bow our heads before the senior imperial figure.
"Tsk tsk. Why are all the women with Bavarian blood so headstrong?"
The Empress Dowager clicked her tongue and resumed her prayers.
...You're from Bavaria too, Aunt.
*
"Duchess Metternich."
"Your Majesty the Empress."
"My deepest condolences for the departed."
"Grandfather can rest in peace, thanks to Your Majesties' comfort."
After the funeral, she invited me to her drawing room.
"Pauline, what was Napoleon like in person?"
"...As my husband said, exactly as Your Majesty described before I left for Paris. He could be a good ally if he shed his obsession with nationalism."
But he can't, so he does stupid things.
He's the fool dismantling France's absolute principle of German disunity with his own hands.
France's glory falls with the Bonaparte family.
Napoleon I sowed the seeds of nationalism in Germany and Italy; Napoleon III reaps the fruits.
And the result... invasion and a six-week end. Was the Franco-Prussian War six weeks too?
"Shall we work to strengthen ties with France?"
I shook my head at Pauline's words.
"No, that's enough. There's no gain in getting close to an emperor who can't even manage his own diplomacy properly. But stay close to Eugénie."
Pauline must have seen a lot as a diplomat's wife in Paris.
More importantly, relations with Britain.
Britain's goal is balance of power on the continent.
They're just supporting Prussia as a counterweight to both France and Russia.
We need a parliament too...
The British prefer countries that at least pretend at parliamentary democracy over absolute monarchies.
That way, in the coming great war, Britain will choose us Austrians as Europe's balance weight, not Prussia.
Right? Who knows.
Seeing their later treaty with Russia, maybe parliaments aren't necessary.
They ignore political systems when it suits them.
"I'm curious how I'm the talk of Paris."
"Your Majesty's beauty and fashion are the top topics. Emperor Napoleon called you 'Vienna's most beautiful liberal.'"
Vienna's most beautiful liberal.
London's probably no different.
"He sees you as the only one who can drive true progressive change in the conservative court. Especially."
She leaned closer to me.
"Especially, the reaction to news of your London visit was extraordinary."
It's already spread that far?
European news is unpredictable.
Slow as molasses one moment.
"The opposite of Vienna."
"Sophie Archduchess still has the court gazette firmly in hand."
"Heading back right away?"
Pauline smiled at my question.
"My husband seemed to hope I'd attend the Bohemian coronation too."
Then she'll be back in Vienna's social scene for a while.
Pauline showed me gifts from Paris.
"The finest porcelain set for the Emperor, and for Your Majesty, perfume and lace personally selected by Empress Eugénie."
I sniffed the perfume.
"Guerlain's Imperial Eau de Cologne."
Eugénie's taste is impeccable.
The crisp scent eased my throbbing headache, if only for a moment.
"Chief lady-in-waiting. Send Café Demel confections to Empress Eugénie."
"Violet sugar preserves, it is."
Lower calories than cake, and sugar doesn't spoil easily.
The porcelain from Napoleon? Stash it in storage.
Porcelain, treaties, promises... everything that guy gives is fragile and breaks easily.