The Empress Does Not Know the Emperor's Heart
"From today on, I'll be sleeping in my own bedroom."
That one sentence froze Franz Joseph solid.
"Sisi, what do you...?"
"You have so much work to do, and it seems like you can't focus when I'm around. Besides, didn't I say I was feeling unwell from the trip back from Hungary?"
Franz Joseph's blue eyes filled with shock, darting around lost and trembling.
Some major state affair I can't be around for, apparently.
"But Sisi, I want you by my side..."
"The children must be waiting. Get some good rest, Yosha."
From beyond the closed door, I heard Franz Joseph calling my name, but I pretended not to hear and headed back to my room.
Listen to that tone—he slips right back into it after not seeing me for so long.
"Mommy!"
A heavy, warm presence crashed down on me as I flopped onto the bed.
... Damn, she really is heavy.
Good thing she's eating and sleeping well, but she's getting a bit much for this mom to handle now.
"Sophie."
She smelled like soap, so she'd clearly washed up thoroughly.
Where'd she leave Gisela and Rudolf? Usually, the three of them come charging in as a set and turn me into a whirlwind.
"What are your siblings up to that only Sophie came? Gisela and Rudolf?"
"Gisela's doing embroidery with Grandma, and Rudolf's reading in the study. I snuck out when I heard you were back!"
Sophie whispered proudly as she burrowed even deeper into my arms. Even under her grandmother's strict upbringing, she always found a way to run to me—this kid definitely takes after me.
"And Ferdinand?"
"He went to church."
That kid... goes to church on his own at that age?
I just don't get how kids from the same womb can be so totally different.
They're all Franz Joseph and my children, for sure... Sophie and I look alike, Gisela and Franz Joseph do too, maybe? Rudolf's half and half, and Ferdinand takes after his father's piety.
"What about Adriana? Sleeping?"
"Addie's napping in the garden with her nanny. Mom, Addie can say 'mommy' now!"
I gripped Sophie's chubby little hand tight.
So warm...
"...But Daddy looked really upset."
War'll do that.
"Daddy was upset?"
Sophie lifted her head with a pout and nodded emphatically.
"He fought with Uncle. And Grandma said Uncle left home."
"He fought with Uncle?"
"Yeah. Daddy shoved some papers at him and yelled. Uncle looked like he was gonna cry and shouted that it was betrayal. Grandma was just clutching her Madonna statue the whole time."
What Franz Joseph had demanded of Maximilian was probably this: if you're choosing that shaky Mexican throne, renounce all your rights in Austria as a Habsburg heir.
No way he imagined his brother would give up even succession rights to go to Mexico.
'That's why he acted like a starving beast earlier.'
At home, he had to cut ties with his own brother.
Franz Joseph must have been seeking comfort from me for that loneliness and guilt.
We'd planned to talk it out at Miramare Castle, but the Hungary issue made it impossible.
To protect Hungary, I sacrificed Maximilian.
"What do you think of Daddy, Sophie?"
"Daddy's a good person."
"Right? Even our daughter knows it, but others just don't get it."
I kissed Sophie's forehead and let out a soft sigh.
Late that night, after putting Sophie to bed, I pondered what to do next.
"Your Majesty, the French Empress has sent a gift."
"A gift?"
Königseck opened the long box.
"Whoa! Is this the real deal?"
A Lefaucheux revolver!
Lefaucheux, huh. Eugénie's got impeccable taste, as always.
I snatched up the revolver right away.
No more humiliation of watching prey escape while a servant loads it for me.
"Her Majesty the Empress of France said she picked it out herself and hopes it becomes a fitting companion for her cousin's free strolls."
Free strolls, indeed.
I should send Eugénie a gift too.
Jewelry or dresses—trite stuff like that won't impress the trendsetter of Paris...
"Order an opera glass from Voigtländer, with Eugénie's signature bee emblem."
"Haa."
'Not like me at all.'
Franz Joseph had been through a lot lately.
Even when he'd sent that final ultimatum to the unrelenting Maximilian, he'd assumed his brother wouldn't go.
'What the hell does he plan to do in unstable Mexico...?'
Renouncing the glorious Habsburg succession for an uncertain Mexican throne? That hadn't factored into Franz Joseph's calculations.
The Hungary issue, the fragile alliance with Prussia, and now estrangement from his brother.
He'd always known the emperor's seat was lonely, but today the burden felt crushing.
He lit a cigar and took a moment to rest.
'Suffocating.'
His mother forever urging him to protect the empire, his brother drifting away since he became emperor, and now his wife leaving on another trip.
'Separate bedrooms right after she gets back from her trip.'
For the Emperor of the Empire, it was a brutally harsh sentence.
Grüne had vanished from the room without a trace, silent as a ghost.
'She's really pissed.'
Regret washed over him late—he'd been too rough on his wife after her hardships in Hungary.
How to make it up to her?
Flowers? No, her room was probably overflowing already.
Jewelry? Sisi cared less about gems than you'd think.
"Grüne."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Grüne emerged from the shadows, silent as ever.
"Prepare the Bad Ischl hunting grounds. Minimize the attendants, and have her favorite horses ready in advance."
Grüne hesitated a moment, then spoke.
"If this is to appease Her Majesty the Empress, I must oppose it."
"Oppose?"
Normally, Grüne would have bowed silently.
"Her Majesty the Empress loves her subjects."
Franz Joseph knew she cared for the people.
"No matter how small Denmark is, she wouldn't want to go hunting in wartime."
Grüne's words hit home.
Franz Joseph stubbed out his cigar in the ashtray.
'...I'm not in my right mind. He's right.'
"She even visited hospitals herself to tend to the wounded before."
It was a choice his usual self would have dismissed before Grüne even pointed it out.
But how else to calm Sisi's anger?
In the end, he fell back on his standard approach.
"Grüne, deliver some of my personal funds to her."
'Let her use it where she sees fit.'
"How much shall I send?"
"100,000 gulden."
Franz Joseph signed the check and handed it to Grüne.
As Grüne turned to leave for Sisi's room, a brief commotion outside opened the door.
"Yosha."
The two men stared in shock as Sisi entered, having opened the door herself.
A revolver gleamed in her hand.
"Your Majesty the Empress? Your Majesty?"
"S-Sisi...?"
Why was the Empress—in the palace—holding a revolver herself, opening doors herself?
The 100,000-gulden check slipped limply from Grüne's hand to the floor.
"What's with you two?"
"Put that down first and let's talk."
Sisi proudly showed off the revolver to Franz Joseph as he approached, gripping the barrel.
"Pretty, right? It's a gift."
At least Sisi knew better than to point a gun—loaded or not—at people.
Franz Joseph sighed in relief.
"Why'd you bring it yourself?"
"I didn't bring it far—just got it at the door."
Sisi had carried it in to show off.
The barrel was silver-plated, adorned with an ornate Bavarian diamond crest.
Deciding to drop the jokes, she struck a pose to demonstrate properly.
She started with the loading stance.
"Don't think of it as a revolver—I'll just show the loading."
Sisi held the revolver upside down, spun the cylinder lightly, and mimed pushing in cartridges.
"No need to pour powder down the barrel and ram it. Just push from the back and close—it’s done."
"That's possible because it's a revolver, isn't it?"
"Breech-loading rifles work the same. With this method, you can even do it lying down."
Ignoring her dress, Sisi lay flat on the floor in prone shooting position to demonstrate loading.
Then she rolled onto her back.
"You can load like this too. Know what that means? Cover during reloading."
Franz Joseph pondered how to broach it without hurting her feelings.
"Grüne."
'Is it right to watch the Empress rolling on the floor?'
"My apologies."
'No need.'
But even for Grüne, this was uncharted territory.
He'd never imagined a noblewoman—let alone the Empress—wielding a gun and tumbling about.
"Fetch the Wänzl rifle."
At the Emperor's command, Grüne departed, and Franz Joseph helped Sisi up.
He personally brushed the dust from her dress.
The Empress of the Empire lying on the floor in shooting stance—what a sight.
His usual self would have been horrified and lectured on etiquette, but not now.
"I'm not unaware we need to switch to breech-loaders."
But there were issues.
The military, fresh off a draw in the Crimean War and victory over Sardinia, wanted to maintain the status quo.
"They believe line infantry tactics are perfect in the field. Most generals oppose sudden changes, saying it'll undermine discipline."
"Discipline? Discipline is built by the living, not the dead."
Sisi replied coolly, not rejecting his touch.
"Grüne and Benedek reported the same. They say give soldiers breech-loaders, and they'll cower in trenches wasting ammo like cowards."
"Be honest. If cowardice saves my life? Do you want me cowardly or stupidly brave and dead?"
"It's not that I don't know...!"
Franz Joseph raised his voice, then clamped his mouth shut at her gaze.
"Look at Prussia. You think Wilhelm and Bismarck are idiots fighting parliament to expand the army? It's proven."
"That doesn't make the budget for arming the whole army appear out of thin air."
He knew. He was just dithering between budget constraints and conservative brass pushback.
That's why he'd opted for converting Lorenz rifles.
"Your Majesty, the Wänzl rifle prototype."
Franz Joseph took the rifle and showed it to Sisi.
"This is the alternative. Converting existing rifles cuts costs by more than half. But the military gripes even about that—better to build more cannons, they say."
Sisi eyed the Wänzl rifle, ready for another demo. "Shall I demonstrate again?" "No, no. It's fine. You're right." Franz Joseph gripped it tight to keep her from taking it.
'He's right, for sure.'
Arrogant generals won't change overnight.
'And Yosha's not sitting idle...'
Judging more talk would just stress him, Sisi took his hand.
"Work done?"
"...Already leaving?"
Sisi smiled and tugged him along.
"Separate bedrooms was a joke. I just said it because I felt slighted."
'Save the theatrics for when we're old and gray.'
"Come on, Yosha. To our bedroom."
Franz Joseph, sensing he couldn't miss this, quickly handed the rifle to Grüne.
"Handle the rest and clock out."
In the long corridor to the bedroom, their footsteps echoed as one.
He still clutched her hand tight, afraid to let go.
"Sisi, that joke today nearly stopped my heart."
"You started it by tormenting me first."
Franz Joseph had no retort to her scolding.
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. More problematic is your speech slipping back."
"Ahem, sorry."
Sisi giggled, finding him adorable.
Back in the bedroom, they lay side by side.
After chatting about the kids for a while, silence fell.
Sisi's hand slipped inside Franz Joseph's clothes.
"Sisi..."
Every casual brush of her fingers under his thin shirt demanded heroic restraint.
He couldn't refuse as she murmured contentedly in half-sleep, burrowing deep into his warm embrace.
Franz Joseph squeezed his eyes shut and began counting sheep.
'One sheep... two sheep...'
As her hand ventured lower, he drew a sharp breath. Eyes closed made her touch feel even sharper.
'Is she really asleep, or is this revenge extended?'
In the end, he clenched his fists and recited the imperial anthem. 'Gott erhalte, Gott beschütze.'