Shared Burdens Under the Venetian Sunset
Siren Königseck's mouth flapped open and shut before she swallowed dryly and finally managed to speak.
"...So you're saying I should explain that performance you just showed me to the musicians and actors and put it on stage?"
I nodded with a smile.
"Exactly. You catch on quick. No wonder Esterházy's told me so much about you."
Königseck's eyes darted around wildly, unfocused.
"What? Can't do it?"
"...I shall obey."
Her face looked a bit pale.
"No, if you can't, it's fine not to."
I could just have Ida, the reading maid, do it. It must be a stretch for someone born and bred a noblewoman.
"No, Your Majesty. I shall carry it out as commanded."
Really? If she's volunteering.
I knew there was a circus tent in the courtyard at Possenhofen, my family home in Bavaria, but I didn't expect her to freak out this much.
"Esterházy. We need to draft a formal request to His Majesty the Emperor."
I could use my allowance, but it'd be a waste.
The propaganda budget for the Milan procession—would that cover it?
Hmm... propaganda feels like the wrong word.
"Put it through to His Majesty as costs for soothing Italian sentiments." Königseck would be the one responsible.
Now that my hair's dry, time to snuggle with Sophie. Rudolf and Gisela are still too young to sleep with us, but Sophie adores me.
"...Mommy's a bad sleeper."
Looks like our Sophie could use some court etiquette lessons.
Am I a bad sleeper?
I carefully climbed onto the bed and lay down beside Sophie.
"You've never said that to Daddy, have you?"
Even when I wake up, the covers are neat, so I'm not a bad sleeper.
Sophie said that, but she still spread out my hair and snuggled right in.
She takes after her dad—obsessed with hair.
"Shh, shh, baby's trying to sleep."
I gently patted the child in my arms.
Maybe I named her wrong after all.
As I listened to Sophie's breathing even out, I sank into thought.
Before heading to Venice, Joseph had detoured to Warsaw for talks.
It was a summit pondering whether the Italian unification movement might spark revolution in Poland.
Then the Second Opium War wrapped up. Russia got Primorsky Krai, while Britain and France forced unequal treaties on the Qing Dynasty.
What butterfly effects would this bring us?
If Joseph came back empty-handed? I'd be sure of that staring contest with Empress Maria last time.
But turning Russia against us now could leave us isolated.
Good thing I didn't push him into joining the Russians for nothing. If it backfires as betrayal... tsk.
The French hate my guts.
We blocked Italian unification, and that memorial at the Place de la Concorde didn't help.
Thanks to that, Eugénie's reputation soared, and I got decent marks from Austrian nobles too.
Britain's next... but the Whigs are clinging to power for a while.
Victoria might help, but she dislikes me. If I ask if they can check France and Russia at once, the answer's no.
When Joseph arrives, I'll subtly probe about military reforms.
Whatever! I can't decide my moves till my husband's back.
By now, spring was in full bloom, and across the Atlantic, the flames of civil war raged.
Joseph came straight to me upon arriving in Venice.
"Sorry I'm late."
"I get it, you were busy."
We'd expected three months, but the meetings dragged on longer than thought.
He took me right to his study for a private talk.
"...It looks like you won't be able to join politics for a while."
Russia betrayed us.
He's pinning blame on me, who urged siding with them.
"Don't look so sorry. I told you first, right? Use me sometimes."
It's not a crime for an empress not to do politics.
I know Joseph isn't one to distrust my words. I just gave a little nudge to his inclination toward joining Russia or staying neutral.
That's why he's feeling guilty toward me.
"The Tsar said since we got something out of it, the debt's paid. He refused military aid, using Poland's unrest as excuse. Vienna's ministers are furious—what did we gain by making enemies of Britain and France?"
"Guess they didn't see me sending Count Buol to Britain."
I teased back.
"Sisi."
His eyes brimmed with apology.
I laid my hand over his fist.
"I'm fine, really. It's not your fault—it's our responsibility. I'm the Emperor's wife, not his policy evaluator."
"But my judgment..."
"You trusted and followed mine. If it was the best to uphold the Emperor's authority against the ministers, I'm okay with it."
As I pried his fingers open one by one, Joseph let out a long sigh and lifted my hand to kiss its back.
If diplomacy always went as planned, there'd be no wars.
Thanks to Queen Victoria, Empress Eugénie, and Archduchess Sophie, I could step into politics—empresses rarely did, and ministers knew it. Since I kept saying I was fine, Joseph changed the subject.
"But you, short on privy purse?"
My privy purse is plenty.
The usual Nadelgeld budget is 100,000 gulden a year. But thanks to a certain someone's 100,000-gulden baby bonuses.
My secret funds stashed with Geneva bankers were steadily growing.
I shrugged lightly.
"This is official business. Costs for soothing sentiments."
Already approved—why quibble?
"Thought you were building a new villa."
"Can His Majesty squander the treasury like that?"
"Weren't you not evaluating policies?"
Joseph grinned playfully.
"Don't worry. Not squandered. You'll see how the budget's used in Milan."
"Really?"
Time to show off my domestic skills again.
Sure, I lost some points, letting Greater Germanism gain traction.
Is that why Metternich said, "Asia begins at the Landstraße"?
Godless Russians...!
"The Archduchess said nothing?"
"No word."
Odd. Even if she handed me the knife, she's not one to let my blunder slide.
The musical, Wiki... differences from my knowledge?
No. Don't weaken. If not records, what to trust?
She's not weighing Maximilian's life—she wouldn't.
"What're you thinking so deeply?"
I shook my head and pouted for no reason.
"Nothing. Wanna take a short walk?"
"If you're up for it."
I ditched the cumbersome crinoline for a light muslin walking dress.
We crossed the small drawbridge linking the palace to the royal gardens.
No square crowds here—my occasional solo retreat.
"I see why you come here often."
"Vienna's got nothing like it."
We leaned on the railing, gazing at the lagoon.
"A gondolier waving at you."
I waved back and poked Joseph.
"Wave too."
"Think he'll like it?"
"Of course. They know you made the festivals possible again."
Bowing to my insistence, Joseph stiffly raised his hand.
"See? They were waiting for you to reach out first."
The gondolier swung his hat in grand reply.
"Must be 'cause you're here. Alone, he'd row away."
Joseph chuckled self-deprecatingly, but his face didn't hate it.
"I trust you. You made our Habsburg family motto."
"...Yeah. To bind the empire so no more blood."
Joseph murmured, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
"Sometimes that motto let me hold this seat alone."
"Wrong interpretation."
"Huh?"
"Not bearing alone—bearing together. I fill your lacks, you fill mine. United strength."
I perched on the railing, teasing him playfully.
"How's this? Sunset behind—don't I look prettier? A beauty saying she'll go with you."
Her silhouette against the sunset was truly beautiful.
Venice's crimson sky and sea seemed a backdrop just for her.
Sisi standing in the backlight looked otherworldly, mystical—yet smiling at me so warmly.
Together we bear...
In my youth, bearing the crown's weight, I'd whipped myself: only if I'm strong does the empire survive.
Even Mother leaned on me—no one offered me a shoulder.
But this woman casually says what no one in the empire dares: I'll fill your lacks. Share the pain, don't suffer alone.
Is this a siren's song?
Myth says sailors, enchanted by a beautiful woman's voice, turn their prows to death.
I'd scoffed—foolish, weaklings' excuses.
Under the blood-red sunset, her hair caught the light, scattering golden.
If this is ruin, I'd gladly row toward it.
"As beautiful as the day we met."
Her cheeks flush shyly at that.
Always tempting first, blushing first.
And not hating it, she brushes hair behind her ear.
"...Shall we go?"
My answer to her question was always one.
I scooped her up. Venice's night is long; we had stories and love to share aplenty. Though princess-in-arms pounded my chest, demanding down. Worth climbing mountains gun in hand.