A Stroll on Lido
“I hope you didn’t summon me all the way here just to show off your granddaughter.”
“If you’d like to see her, you’re welcome anytime.”
I’m gonna bolt.
“Never mind. As long as you don’t run off like last time.”
Since when did she learn to read minds?
My mother-in-law scrutinized Adriana, asleep in her cradle, with a critical eye.
“Fortunately, she’s put on some baby fat. I was worried Venice’s damp air might not suit her.”
“The court physicians and wet nurses are watching her with utmost care.”
“Don’t just trust the doctors. You need to keep an eye on her yourself.”
My mother-in-law lightly touched the baby’s cheek, then turned to me.
“So, what’s the real reason you called me here? It’s not about Bourbon, is it?”
“I’m asking you, Mother, to stop Maximilian.”
I chose my words very carefully, picking ones sure to grate on the Archduchess’s nerves.
“Max is dancing to Napoleon III’s tune.”
I’d linked two things my mother-in-law despised most in the world: the upstart Napoleon and the Habsburgs being played for fools.
“Max is an ambitious boy. He can’t spend his life in Franz Joseph’s shadow. Do you think it’s a disgrace to the family for someone with Habsburg blood to become emperor of another country?”
She already knew.
“They even took away his viceroyalty in Lombardy-Venetia, so what choice does he have? A prince with nowhere to go, seeking his own throne outside the empire— are you jealous of that?”
“Jealous?”
I swallowed a hollow laugh and snapped my fan shut.
“Mother, Napoleon III is a merchant. He puts profit before his imperial title.”
“What are you getting at?”
“If it’s such a great, safe, and glorious position, why didn’t he offer it to his own cousin, Prince Napoleon (Napoleon Joseph Charles Paul Bonaparte), instead of our Max?”
A Napoleon who was at odds with the Habsburgs over Italian territories, no less.
“Does that man even deserve an imperial throne? A fat, lazy womanizer like him.”
“That’s exactly why it’s so suspicious. A greedy Napoleon who’d grudge even his own bloodline the title of ‘emperor,’ handing it over so readily to us, who are practically enemies.”
My mother-in-law wasn’t someone who moved the empire by birthright alone.
She’d incited the conservatives and tightened court etiquette because she judged it would bring glory to the Habsburgs.
“Mother, let’s keep Maximilian away from this.”
Joseph had shaken off his guilt by making him emperor.
But Maximilian?
Before I could speak, the Archduchess Sophie cut in.
“Do you know the pretext for invading Mexico?”
...No, I don’t.
“Tsk. Sending Count Buol to England and missing the intel? It was debt collection. That’s why Britain, with its own claims to collect, just sat back and watched.”
“So they’re putting a Habsburg on the throne of a debt-ridden empire?”
“I said Britain’s watching. In the end, they can’t put Prince Napoleon there.”
Ha, so it’s circling back to that....
On the surface, with Britain and France unable to claim it for themselves, only our neutral empire remains.
A mediator elevated by the great powers’ consensus.
Come to think of it, it was stranger to believe she’d endorsed it purely out of maternal love.
“...Max must leave the Habsburgs.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s for Franz’s sake.”
She stopped rocking Adriana’s cradle.
“Max is too clever, too free-spirited. Haven’t you seen how he’s changed since losing his viceroyalty in Lombardy and holing up in Miramare? Watching my son waste away, staring at the sea, tormented by his rotting talents— how do you think that feels for a mother?”
“Even so, Mexico? You know how pie-in-the-sky Napoleon III’s offer is.”
“Pie-in-the-sky? It’s a chance to extend the Habsburg prestige to the American continent.”
“What if that ‘consideration’ puts Max in danger?”
My mother-in-law let out a short sigh and fell silent.
I’d said it gently, but she knew. How hopeless a gamble Mexico was.
“Then I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning. But for now... for now, I have no choice but to send Max. I want to believe it’s the way to save both Emperor Franz and our wayward Max.”
She gripped the cradle tightly, hiding her trembling hands, then broke the silence by rising from her seat.
“Recommend some good Alpine mineral water to Therese. Her anxiety over not producing an heir is a disgrace to the Habsburgs.”
My mother-in-law briefly patted my shoulder once and left the room.
...You knew Maximilian better than anyone.
I’d thought maternal love had blinded her.
‘Archduchess Sophie and Charlotte’s support, and Joseph’s opposition.’
That brief historical note.
But the web of human relationships hidden behind that fleeting record was hard to grasp.
Charlotte... never mind. She’s complicated in her own ways.
Jealousy toward me, Belgian princess pride, and seeing Maximilian as the vessel for her ambitions.
“Your Majesty, Prussia has appointed a new prime minister today.”
Königseck handed me the newspaper.
Maximilian was headache enough, and now Bismarck too. Mountains beyond mountains.
To counter Napoleon, who wanted to put Maximilian on Mexico’s throne, I’d responded to Henri V’s invitation with a counter-move.
Nothing’s resolved right now.
After victory in the Sardinian War, the military—true to its conservative nature—had stalled.
It guzzles money, so it’s hard for me alone to push changes without paying attention.
Haa.
I let out a light sigh.
No more politics.
“I’m going for a walk.”
When it’s time to rest, focus on resting.
I won’t worry too much about the future ahead.
For a while, I need to do what only this time allows.
“I’ll prepare. Where to, Your Majesty?”
“Somewhere without people.”
At those words, the maids seemed lost in thought. They knew this wasn’t a stroll with the children.
At Esterházy’s cue, the maids moved with perfect coordination.
Not wanting another lecture from my mother-in-law, I first shed the dress I’d worn to avoid one.
Corset to the minimum.
“That Tyrolean wool dress from before? Yes, the short one.”
Ankle-baring dress—Mother-in-law might faint if she saw it, but nothing beats it for walking.
Next, leather boots, laces tied tight.
Gloves and fan, and I’m ready.
Unlike me, the maids’ preparations were just beginning.
Königseck was on walk duty today.
She packed low-heeled spares with a woeful expression.
“At least it’s cloudy today, Königseck.”
The other maids consoled her, but....
That’s gonna help?
“Let’s go.”
When my head’s a mess, I need to move my body.
Walk till my breath’s at my throat and my leg muscles scream—then Bismarck, Mexico, all those headaches will evaporate with the sweat.
We took a gondola to Lido Island.
“Königseck, leave the parasol.”
No people anyway.
She adjusted her low-heeled laces with a resolute face.
“What, off to war?”
Why so tense?
I hiked up my skirts and started walking.
Hungary’s been quiet lately. They need some attention too.
“Königseck.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
She’s keeping up well.
“You said there’s an oil company in Galicia-Lodomeria?”
“Ukasiewicz’s Bóbrka.”
“Invest the money Esterházy made selling cotton there.”
“Understood, Your Majesty.”
This is why I stick to ruling the empress’s household and stay out of politics.
To dive in, I’d have to be in Vienna, and free time like this would vanish.
I need to savor this freedom while it lasts.
After the war with Prussia, Mother-in-law’s power ends, and Joseph’s hangs by a thread.
Then, I’ll step in naturally as empress.
“Hoo!”
No politics!
Damn it! I came to clear my head! Politics is like stocks—keeps nagging at you.
Think kids, think kids.
The girls will be... fine? Maybe?
Sophie almost got ruined mid-education, didn’t she?
Even if I assign etiquette teachers I approve for the daughters, the sons... I’ll have Joseph pick suitable ones.
I dropped hints last time— if he assigns weirdos, three years of separate bedrooms.
I reached out sideways, but felt nothing.
“Königseck, water.”
I paused to wait; she came panting up.
“Y-Your Majesty... here.”
“I told you to dress comfortably for walks.”
Not even halfway, and she’s wrecked already?
“You know there’s no carriage on the beach?”
Despite my scolding, Königseck steadied her breath and replied politely.
“This is the prescribed walking attire.”
She glanced at my ankles and added,
“I could never presume to imitate Your Majesty’s bold style.”
Mud-caked silk skirts and thin leather shoes.
“Next time, dress as a man.”
“...I’ll try.”
Yeah, no way in hell.
Normally, I’d stop if the kids fussed midway.
Today means no brakes to halt me.
“Let’s go again. To the end there, then back.”
Lido’s about 12 km long.
The despair in Königseck’s eyes? Must be my imagination.
“Or like last time, eight hours straight?”
“N-No...”
The next day, Königseck called in sick.