Balancing the Pillars

The common perception of Prussia in both Vienna proposals was that of a 'rough, provincial border count who only knows the military.' It had worsened since the Reformation. The northern heretics were seen as godless and mannerless, while the south was just rotten priests and nobles. But nationalism changed everything.

A significant number of Greater Germany advocates had come to accept Prussia's efficiency, hoping ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the emperor would unify Germany under his rule and secure more benefits for themselves. But the high nobility, the Hochadel, opposed it. In their eyes, the Archduchess was using German nationalism to maintain the empire, while the Empress was trying to hold it together with minority nationalisms. Their only remaining choice was the emperor himself—Franz Joseph personally.

The empire divided into three pillars. He didn't nag like Sophie to change, nor agitate like Sisi to split it up. He simply rose early, donned his uniform, reviewed documents, and embodied the unchanging message with his whole being.

To Sisi, salons were where nobles gathered to gossip about her. To Sophie, they were playgrounds full of whining children she had to control.

Duke Esterházy approached Sisi and greeted her.

"You've fled those boring speakers to take refuge here. I escaped too, not wanting to be treated like an old man, and how delightful it is to meet Your Majesty."

"Duke Paul Anton Esterházy, it's been too long."

Sisi welcomed him warmly.

"How is the Duchess faring?"

"My wife was insistent on coming to see Your Majesty, but she suddenly fell ill and had to stay behind."

"Don't forget to take some of the special health tonics prepared for His Majesty."

Duke Esterházy's wife was not only related to Sisi's chief lady-in-waiting, Countess Esterházy-Lichtenstein, but also aunt to the husband of Sisi's sister Nene.

"Is Helene well?"

"Of course, Your Majesty. They say Regensburg Castle echoes with the children's laughter. Especially how the Duke dotes on his wife—it's the talk of Vienna."

"I'm glad. My sister is happy."

Duke Esterházy glanced briefly at the Archduchess, then met the Empress's eyes.

"...Your Majesty."

"Speak, Duke."

"I know it's presumptuous, but please don't hate the Archduchess too much."

Sisi looked at him in surprise.

"I hate the Archduchess?"

"Everyone in Vienna thinks so."

"If you ask simply whether I like or dislike her, then no, I don't. But that's just my personal stance. As Empress... well, I'm not sure."

Sisi lightly touched her fan to her chin as she chose her words.

To the rising bourgeoisie, intellectuals, and minorities, Empress Elisabeth was a symbol of freedom and change. To the clergy, conservative nobles, bureaucrats, and Germans, Archduchess Sophie represented order and tradition.

"My mother-in-law and I stand on different ground, but we share the wish that the Habsburg roof doesn't collapse. We're propping up pillars from different spots. So I can't just hate her. If she falls, one of the empire's supporting pillars crumbles."

"Haha, just an old man's unfounded worry, then."

"Unfounded? Someone of your stature should take it as sincere advice, not mere worry. You could enter the palace this instant and advise His Majesty."

"You're too kind. With three sturdy pillars already upholding the empire, where would an old staff like me fit in? I pray from afar for harmony among the three."

Ding—

Right on cue, the bell signaling the start of Act II rang out.

Sophie approached Sisi naturally.

"Esterházy's expression wasn't bad."

Sophie veiled her mouth with her fan, her gaze drifting to the duke, who had retreated some distance.

"I didn't mention Hungary. Just talked about my sister, so no need to worry."

"Paul Anton Esterházy is Hungary personified. Even without uttering the word, the moment you lock eyes with him, you're already at the negotiation table over Hungary."

"Lucky, then. At least I spoke with a moderate."

They didn't depose the Habsburgs, after all.

Sisi, who said that, strode ahead first.

'That's why Kossuth Lajos can't return to Hungary.'

Deposition decree, push for republic, declaration of independence. Even the magnates hated Austrian meddling and backed the revolution, but they hadn't supported Hungary's Jacobins.

Upon reaching the imperial box, Sophie asked Sisi,

"Empress, do you know why the Germans disdain you?"

"Because I'm taking their privileges, I suppose."

"That's part of it, but why on earth call them 'German'?"

Sisi momentarily failed to mask her expression.

'What else do you call Germans but Germans?'

"We don't call them Allemands, do we?"

Sophie clicked her tongue at Sisi's joke with a look of pity.

"This isn't the time to show off your French."

"Aren't they fools? The Austrians, heirs of Rome, claiming descent from barbarians."

Sophie approved of Sisi's latest remark.

"The Prussians up north are barbarians who ate acorns in the woods, but we are the legitimate heirs who inherited Rome's crown. Good that you grasp the difference."

"Mother."

"What?"

"It's not Prussia—it's Brandenburg."

"Heavens."

Sophie was dumbfounded by Sisi's retort.

"Not a word wrong. Yes, they're just border counts of Brandenburg, too lowly even for elector."

The only times these two ever saw eye-to-eye were moments like this.

Hungary, Italy, court etiquette, private life, salons, child-rearing—most other topics were minefields.

Franz Joseph had diligently stepped on those mines, letting go of both women's hands in the process. At first, he tried mediating; later, imposing order to hold them together. But alas, for Joseph, there was no compromise between wife and mother.

"Franz seems to believe Prussia is an ally."

"I told Joseph about Bismarck. He knows now it's not an alliance."

"That Junker? Not Wilhelm?"

"Wilhelm can't budge against that Junker. They're like me and Joseph."

"I've heard Frederick the Great enjoyed sodomy."

"Why does it always veer there?"

"Didn't you say Wilhelm and his chancellor or whatever are like a married couple?"

"Was that a joke?"

"Speak plainly from the start."

"Must you always beat around the bush?"

"The court has its language."

"Family has its own."

The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, briefly united in trash-talking Prussia, stepped on another mine within ten minutes.

Today's mine: language.

*

While his mother and wife bickered, Joseph pored over documents.

War costs money, and that money comes from taxes. But the emperor couldn't unilaterally raise taxes without the imperial parliament's consent.

To prepare for war, he needed to convene regional representatives and secure agreement.

The question was whom and how many from where.

Two proposals lay on Joseph's desk.

The senders differed, but it was easy to guess who pulled the strings behind each.

'Federal committee from Sisi, imperial parliament from Mother.'

Unlike the military, both women judged war inevitable.

In such situations, Joseph always heard the majority.

'Mother's proposal first.'

'The two recent rebel hotspots are thoroughly excluded.'

But Lombardy-Venetia, responsible for 25% of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠imperial revenue, got only 5 seats.

Joseph set it aside and picked up Sisi's proposal.

'This... the nobles will oppose it outright.'

Follow the Archduchess's plan, and Italy would revolt again; follow the Empress's, and Vienna's German nobles would clutch their necks and collapse.

"Prioritize loyalty... or tax revenue...."

Neither was wrong; deciding was hard.

'Mother seeks to preserve imperial authority, Sisi to fill the coffers.'

"Grüne, convene the temporary fiscal defense committee."

"Which roster, Your Majesty?"

Joseph took up his pen and began compromising.

Austria gets 25 seats to salve pride, Lombardy 20 to open wallets, Hungary...

'10 seats first, with room to add more based on tax collection.'

Neither side fully satisfied, but neither ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exploding—a delicate balance. With that, he called the meeting.