The Third Mother-in-Law War

Leaning on her cane, Sophie Archduchess strode into the Empress's bedroom.

She had rushed back the moment she received the telegram from Venice.

Seeing her daughter-in-law lying pale as a ghost on the bed, Sophie was utterly exasperated.

Clinging to work for the sake of the empire, only to endanger the empire's most vital heir and the Empress herself—what nonsense.

The host and guest have completely swapped places.

"Congratulations."

"You've returned, Mother. I thought you were still with the children in Venice."

"I came back the instant I got the wire that you'd collapsed at luncheon."

Sissi was just then trying to force herself upright.

Sophie stamped her cane on the floor, stopping her cold.

"Lie down. Do you think your body belongs to you alone right now?"

Her words cut sharp, but her gaze lingered on Sissi's gaunt wrists and cheeks.

Burying herself in paperwork with a body too wrecked by morning sickness to even eat.

"Collapsed at luncheon, they said? Not indigestion, but morning sickness."

"It was just overeating, nothing more. A little rest and I'll be back to work—"

"Work?"

Sophie clicked her tongue in disbelief.

Even now, she's talking about work.

"It's my duty until Joseph returns."

She knew the girl had a strong sense of responsibility, but to Sophie, it looked like sheer stubbornness.

"And you collapsed carrying out that duty just hours ago."

Sophie shook her head with a sigh of genuine regret.

"Empress. You're especially sensitive. What if something goes wrong with the child from staring at those stacks of papers? Who will you blame then?"

"But with Joseph away, I have to handle his work."

That stubborn glint in her eyes. Sophie swallowed an inward sigh.

"That's why I'm here. While you recover, I'll take care of it."

Sophie stated it as if it were a settled matter.

"Pardon?"

Sissi blinked wide-eyed. She probably thought Sophie was power-grabbing, but such misunderstandings meant nothing to her.

"Do I look like I'm coveting the Empress's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠authority? I'm only protecting my grandchild."

She figured it was safer for her to handle things than let a pregnant woman struggle through them.

Not waiting for a reply, Sophie summoned Count Grüne from the doorway.

"Grüne, move the papers from the Emperor's study to my chambers."

"At once, Your Highness."

"Mother!"

Sissi called urgently, but Sophie ignored her.

Does she think enduring until collapse is a virtue? An Empress should know her health is the empire's security. What if she miscarries from overdoing it in her condition?

"Foolish girl."

Sophie muttered the rebuke with real concern.

Grüne glanced awkwardly, but Sophie turned on her heel without delay.

"Focus on your prenatal care. No more useless thoughts."

Sophie reviewed the work Sissi had accomplished, now brought to her study.

Placating Russia while securing real gains... Joseph would have stuck rigidly to principle, but this shows flexibility.

Not bad at all.

Joseph appeared to favor bureaucrats on the surface but trusted none of them deep down.

Sissi seemed wary of them outwardly but delegated the real tasks effectively.

I thought she was just stubborn, but her workmanship is solid. An Empress needs this kind of adaptability.

A son who micromanaged everything personally, and a daughter-in-law with the vision to plan for the future.

A niece who could compensate for her son's shortcomings as Emperor.

"So Vienna's nobles are wagging their tongues, but in the end, my judgment was spot on."

She'd initially favored Helene a bit more, but not anymore. Joseph liked Sissi, and Sissi liked Joseph. That Neapolitan queen, Maria Carolina, had eighteen children with her grand duke. With chemistry like that, she needed to take better care of herself.

That was when—

"The Mistress of the Household requests an audience."

"Send her in."

Esterházy curtsied properly before addressing Sophie.

"Her Majesty is not alone anymore. If Your Highness treats her so harshly, where will she find solace?"

"Countess. Do you think Viennese high society runs on kindness?"

Her marriage to Archduke Franz Karl. But Vienna's great nobles hadn't welcomed the princess from Bavaria.

They'd snickered behind fans at her accent, giggled that her dresses were outdated.

The humiliations Sissi faced now? Mere scratches compared to what Sophie had endured.

"Do you know what Vienna's nobles call that girl? 'The Bavarian Goose.' Mocking her as provincial, ill-mannered, dim-witted."

The gall. Nobles insulting the imperial family behind their backs.

"If I smile it off, does she grow stronger? If I indulge her, will the Schwarzenbergs or Windischgrätz women respect her?"

"No, but Her Majesty..."

Esterházy believed a touch of sincerity could mend their rift.

"I proved—in the Habsburg name—that Wittelsbach blood is nobler and stronger than any Austrian noble's."

Every insult had made her stand taller; every slight had honed her etiquette to perfection.

In the end, she earned the nickname "the only man in the empire," bending her mockers to kneel at her feet.

"Yet my niece, my daughter-in-law, cowers in bed weeping over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mere noble cliques."

Sissi's fragility would only rebound as insults to the imperial house.

But beneath it, Sophie saw not weakness, but venom. Without that bite, she'd have withered away in melancholy at Hofburg long ago.

"If she had no spirit, she'd be gone like Ludwig by now."

I buried my face in the pillow.

Franz Joseph.

Mother says you're praising me, saying I understand the empire's situation best right now.

Is that how a mother-in-law compliments her daughter-in-law? Snatching even a three-week power stint—is that what mothers-in-law do?!

"Liar..."

I wanted to flee Vienna right now, but...

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

What about the children?

If Joseph were here, maybe, but just Mother?

Heading to Hungary with the kids felt too risky.

Cholera flared up whenever it pleased, malaria was everyday around the swamps.

And with Hungary dodging taxes, Austria had cut off all investment, infrastructure included—even smallpox was rampant.

Königseck gently wiped my eyes with a damp cloth.

"Hunyadi."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"I wonder how Count Hunyadi is faring."

"He's selecting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a horse as a gift for Your Majesty."

"I'll need to share my intentions, then."

"I'll pass along the message."

The best spot for the kids? Miramare Castle, probably.

Close to Croatia, and Hungarians could visit too.

Once the Hungarian maids left, I quietly asked Königseck,

"Tell me about Hungary-Croatia relations."

Croatia wasn't Austria's crown directly.

It had passed to the Habsburgs alongside Hungary's throne in their personal union.

The more I pretended to empower the Slavs, the more Hungarians drifted away.

But sadly, I was the only one listening to them.

"Croatians desire 'Triunism'—not as Hungary's appendage, but the three kingdoms of Croatia, Slavonia, and Dalmatia united as a direct Habsburg realm under His Majesty."

"They want equal footing with Hungary."

"Yes."

Yet Joseph's hesitation was obvious: Hungary.

Grant Croatia loyalty, and Hungary explodes; soothe Hungary, and Croatia feels betrayed.

Joseph chose Hungary.

If separation was the plan, it should've happened in '48 when Russia crushed them.

Hard to love Hungary alone.

Even as an Austro-Hungarian dual empire, it'd be less than half the realm.

Hand autonomy to Hungary first, and they'd sabotage every Slavic policy.

Ah, headache.

I sipped the tea Königseck brought.

"Königseck, you're better than Count Grüne."

"You're too kind."

Unlike Italy or Bohemia, this was a different knot.

"Königseck, tell Hunyadi I want to see the letters between her and Count Hunyadi."

Soon, Hunyadi arrived with a bundle of letters.

Of course I wasn't exchanging letters with Count Hunyadi myself.

Ferenc Deák's letter to me.

He figured I'd grant Hungary autonomy.

...But if I elevate Croatia and the Slavs equally, would Hungary be satisfied?

"Hunyadi. Which Hungarian houses are loyal to us?"

"The Esterházys, of course, but they're already deeply embedded in the court."

Hunyadi pondered, then named others.

"Among the Labanci, the Apponyi and Pálffy counts."

Labanci were Hungarian houses sworn to Habsburgs; opposite them, Kurucs pushed independence.

Families prioritizing noble privileges over full independence.

Problem was, even Labanci opposed Croatian issues.

Lose Croatia, and Hungary loses the sea. Landowners like them wouldn't stomach blocked exports.

Hungary first, or Croatia...?

"Time to write to Count Buol."

"Count Buol?"

Yes, time to sway British opinion.

I penned a short note to Count Buol. Perfect bait for Britain's haughty press.

Hungarian nobles begging international pity as oppressed victims. Once exposed as backward slave lords, whom would slave-hating Britain side with?

The answer lay across the Atlantic, in America.