Bohemian Coronation
We had to return to Prague as the King and Queen of Bohemia.
Metternich's body was to be transported to Plasy in Bohemia, his estate, for burial. Since it was on the way, we decided to escort the funeral procession and show proper respect to the emperor's last loyal servant.
"Aren't you tired? Setting off right after the funeral mass."
Franz Joseph peered at my face inside the carriage.
It was something we had to do anyway.
At the front of the long procession was the black carriage bearing Metternich's remains, followed at the rear by our gold-painted imperial carriage.
The giant of the past returns to the earth, while the young emperor marches on to claim his crown.
"Stopping in Plasy on the way to Prague will make the schedule tight. I wonder if the coronation preparations are all ready."
"Don't worry. Count Thun will have staked his life on it."
Leo von Thun. Former Governor of Bohemia and now Minister of Education.
He was skilled at soothing Bohemian nationalists. This coronation had been heavily influenced by my input, but he'd handled the practical details.
We traveled by train to the Bohemian border, then switched to carriages. Everyone from Sophie Archduchess's circle stayed behind, except for Andrássy and Count Buol.
Beneath the surface, power struggles raged fiercely, but to the outside world, Austria still appeared strong and unyielding. If we'd lost Milan, we might have purged them all... but touching victorious nobles was risky.
We'd only cut off the tails. Andrássy was too incompetent, and Count Buol had clashed with Franz Joseph during the Crimean War and the Second Italian War of Independence, leading to his downfall. He'd been sent off as ambassador to Britain, I think.
"We'll see Count Buol again if we go to Britain."
"If it's uncomfortable, shall I switch it to Rome?"
"No need. I dislike him, but we should make use of his talents."
His staunch anti-Russian stance paradoxically suited British tastes perfectly.
"He's strongly pro-British, so he'll be quite useful in London."
No need to strip every power from the competent ones. Enemies today could be allies tomorrow—that's politics. Besides, no point forcing my people into positions now. With the coming fraternal war... the impending showdown with Prussia, any defeat would fall squarely on the commanders and cabinet.
"When are we going to London?"
I'd originally planned for two years from now.
"After the coronation, I'll go early and talk things over with Prince Albert."
We needed to position the South German states around us, Baden Grand Duchy aside. Baden's grand duke was the father-in-law of Wilhelm I, who would later become Kaiser of the German Empire.
"Prince Albert is pro-Prussian. He might dislike us Habsburgs as stuffy."
He was indeed pro-Prussian, but that was because he didn't know them well. It wouldn't matter once Bismarck appeared—he'd figure it out soon enough.
"That's why I'm going. Do you know my nickname?"
"My angel?"
...This man, really.
It's getting worse by the day.
Was my reaction that amusing to Franz Joseph?
"Try giving even half that attention to your subjects."
"Impossible. I don't even give you enough as it is."
I shook my head helplessly, but I couldn't hide my own bubbling smile.
I should ask Countess Esterházy who Franz Joseph has been exchanging letters with lately...
Franz Joseph gazed out the window, composing his expression.
"We'll arrive soon."
Before ascending the royal road, I checked my makeup in a hand mirror and switched carriages. My appearance was impeccable, and the dress was perfect.
The hem of my red velvet gown was embroidered with silver thread in the shape of Bohemia’s symbolic linden leaves.
In the sensitive Austrian Empire, even such attire mattered deeply to national pride.
Throngs of people already crowded the Charles Bridge.
"Sláva! Long live the King and Queen of Bohemia!"
Cheers in a mix of Bohemian and German echoed from afar.
Franz Joseph received deep, respectful roars of loyalty and admiration, but mine were pure fervor.
Unadulterated adoration and praise.
I slowly turned my head toward the citizens, waving my hand at the practiced angle—not too casual, not too arrogant.
The sensation of thousands, tens of thousands of eyes fixed on me.
I'd felt it in Venice too... but this thrilling rush never got old.
"Tch, everyone's only looking at you."
"Jealous?"
"As if."
We each had our own domains of popularity.
If Franz Joseph was the idol of the soldiers, I was the people's beloved.
That was why they always called for me on his processions.
As the carriage passed the statue at the bridge's center, we slowed as planned.
Franz Joseph and I both made the sign of the cross before the statue of St. John Nepomuk and resumed.
"Long live our Emperor!"
The cheers shifted slightly from before.
"...Where on earth did you learn this?"
Who knows?
"It's innate."
After all, I'd chosen a career built on public adoration.
Maybe it was the actor in me. I preferred this scripted performance over Venice's fan meetups.
The carriage picked up speed again, climbing the hill.
The final stretch to St. Vitus Cathedral.
The pageantry was over now.
"Keeping promises is only natural," I said.
Franz Joseph was still wavering on whether holding this coronation was right.
Time to give him more conviction.
"In exchange for stroking Bohemian pride, we gain their unwavering taxpayers and soldiers."
He had no rebuttal.
Bohemia's industrial heartland shouldered more than half the empire's finances. Viennese nobles danced on their taxes—that was reality.
We alighted at the cathedral entrance, joined hands, and walked the long nave.
There it was: the Crown of St. Wenceslas, symbol of Bohemia.
Legend said anyone unworthy who wore it would die within a year.
As we knelt before the altar, Cardinal Schwarzenberg began the anointing on Franz Joseph.
"Almighty God, pour Your oil upon Your servant Franz Joseph—"
Right hand, forehead, both shoulders.
Once Franz Joseph's anointing ended, he donned the Crown of St. Wenceslas.
"Te Deum laudamus!"
...Maybe I should study Latin.
Next, the cardinal blessed me.
"Lord, grant Your grace to Your handmaid Elisabeth."
Mine was modest: just my right shoulder and arm.
A smaller crown than his, but studded with diamonds and rubies.
"As Queen of Bohemia, receive this crown of glory."
The cardinal stepped back, and I rose, turning around.
Every noble and cleric in the cathedral bowed as one.
I walked slowly to the queen's throne beside Franz Joseph's and sat.
He looked at me with relief and awe mingled in his eyes. His forehead gleamed comically from the oil.
"Just to be sure, I'm asking."
"What?"
We whispered softly to each other.
"About the coronation. I asked if you'd wear the other crowns too."
Of course I would.
I just lifted the corner of my mouth enough not to show it.
How many left?
Just two more, right? Hungary and Lombardy-Venetia.
"Shall I wear the Reichskrone too?"
He chuckled lightly at my joke.
My hypnosis only worked on imperial subjects, after all.
If only it worked on Napoleon or Bismarck.
"Don't skip the ball this time. You must attend."
...I really hate that.
"Bertie."
Prince Albert called to his son without lifting his eyes from the massive site plan spread on his desk.
"Yes, Father."
"The Austrian Empress will arrive in London soon."
"The Austrian Empress, sir?"
Bertie's voice rose briefly before shrinking under his father's sharp glance.
"Yes. This Expo must surpass the Crystal Palace of '51. Displaying mere machines and goods won't suffice."
He craved a symbol to captivate the crowds.
The hottest icons in Europe right now: Eugénie and Elisabeth.
"When the Empress comes, every journalist in Europe will flock to London. Her dresses, her speech, every exhibit she touches becomes instant promotion."
"I've heard the sensation she caused in Vienna was tremendous."
Bertie nodded as seriously as he could manage, though his mind wandered elsewhere.
Who should I meet up with today?
"I'll be busy with Expo preparations and attending Her Majesty the Queen, so you will escort her."
"Me, sir?"
"You'll get along better than stiff old me. Show her the Expo grounds and London's sights."
"I'll keep it in mind. I won't tarnish Britain's face."
"Good. But don't get too close. For your sister Vicky's sake, if nothing else."
"Understood."
The moment he left the study, Bertie let out an inner cheer.
His father's dull toys could wait.
The Austrian Empress was a legitimate excuse to escape this suffocating Windsor Castle and his parents' nagging.
Memorize exhibit items? Ha, better spend that time somewhere fun.
He whistled a tune, waiting for Sisi to arrive. "She already has four kids?" He pictured a figure like his own mother. Queen Victoria had ballooned after many children too. It was the dignity of royalty, a symbol of fertility. The typical stern German queen, droning on with lectures.
I'll give a half-hearted escort, then make an excuse about a headache and hit the clubs.
With rumors she hated balls, surely Sisi would appreciate a lax escort too.