The Ultimatum
While Franz Joseph was still dithering over his decision, the two women spotted him.
“Franzchi.”
“Yosha.”
They were clearly using affectionate nicknames, but for some reason, Franz Joseph felt a chill run down his spine.
He glanced back briefly.
The assembly hall was still noisy even after adjournment had been declared.
But ahead of him stood the two women, fans in hand, smiling as they approached. Caught between a rock and a hard place.
He briefly fantasized about a ridiculous escape, but the emperor of the empire had nowhere to run.
“What brings you both here?”
Before Franz Joseph's question could even finish, the two women opened their mouths in unison, as if they'd been waiting for it.
“I have something to discuss about Rudolf.”
“There's something I need to tell you about Rudolf.”
'Ah...'
Franz Joseph had zero desire to step into that crossfire.
“I heard Count Gondokur's report. Apparently Rudolf collapsed in fright at the sound of gunfire during shooting practice.”
Sisi grabbed Franz Joseph's arm and pulled him along.
“Yosha, did you hear? Gondokur just douses the crown prince with cold water like it's nothing.”
“Franzchi, you grew up that way too, and so did your father. Your grandmother and all our ancestors before—there's no way the empress can understand our time-honored methods.”
“And that made you happy? You want to do the same to our son?”
“Happy? What does happiness matter to an emperor? Strength is what counts.”
Franz Joseph wasn't foolish enough to blurt out that he'd personally selected Gondokur.
“Isn't that right, Franzchi? You entrusted him to Rudolf because you believed he was an excellent soldier too.”
'Mother, please...'
Franz Joseph swallowed dryly.
Affirming it here would make Sisi explode, denying it would set off his mother.
“You don't mean... you picked him?”
Franz Joseph's eyes wavered at Sisi's icy glare and tone.
“He'd received medals, and the military's recommendation was so strong...”
“Ha! So just because he's a war hero, it's okay to torture a child? He's the crown prince, not a war prisoner!”
Sisi let out a hollow laugh.
“Perfect. If you appointed him, you can dismiss him just as easily.”
“Empress! Are you meddling in the emperor's personnel authority?”
“This isn't about personnel authority. Mother-in-law, do you want your grandson to go mad?”
“Mad? Teaching him the imperial code of conduct makes him mad?”
“Enough. It's only been moments since adjournment. Both of you, lower your voices.”
Franz Joseph pressed his temples firmly.
“Fine, I get that Your Majesty is tired. But remember this one thing.”
Sisi stared straight into Franz Joseph's eyes and delivered her ultimatum.
“If anything happens to Rudolf, the one leaving won't be Gondokur—it'll be me.”
With that, Sisi strode off toward the empress's palace without a backward glance.
“Elisabeth!”
Franz Joseph called out urgently, but her steps didn't falter.
All that remained was the dazed emperor and the Archduchess Sophie, gripping her fan in disbelief.
Sophie too had come to the Habsburgs as a bride, killing off her own happiness and emotions to become the emperor's mother.
“Children are raised for the empire, not the heart.”
Her daughter-in-law, so similar to her yet refusing to abandon motherhood entirely, seemed both foolish and pitiable.
“Franzchi, mind your conduct. I've been hearing unsavory rumors lately.”
With those words, Sophie departed as well.
Left alone, Franz Joseph rubbed his dry face and let out a deep sigh.
“Is that really true?”
“Yes, even Crown Prince Ludwig, Your Majesty's cousin, is already wearing a collar and practicing walking.”
The royal average...?
“What about guns?”
“I'm not sure about that far...”
Come to think of it, in Joseon too, they raised the crown prince locked in a thought box.
I should write to Bertie and Eugénie after so long.
“Ida, prepare to write a letter.”
“Where shall I send it?”
“To the Duke of Wales, the French Empress, hmm... and to my aunts and cousin brothers.”
The other German principalities, Britain, and France should suffice.
Even as I wrote the letters, I couldn't shake my doubts.
Surely there must be differences even if they do it that way.
“The emperor must be very busy.”
Our fine emperor is swamped with work every day.
“Are other royals the same?”
“Imperial education is inherently harsh. Your Majesty went through it too.”
“Who was Joseph's teacher?”
“Different ones for each field, but overall, Count Henri François de Bommel oversaw it.”
“De?”
De, not von?
“Yes, he was the son of an exiled noble. Archduchess Sophie appointed him court ambassador and put him in charge of education. Religion, as Your Majesty knows, was handled by Cardinal Rauscher.”
“A French exiled noble...”
As I tapped my lips with the fan end and stayed silent, Esterházy continued.
“He was a diplomat. He taught the emperor several languages and lectured on the virtues of a monarch. His Majesty greatly respected Count de Bommel.”
That's what I'm saying.
“Then why did Joseph call in a soldier?”
From what she's saying, he was raised mostly under diplomats.
“That trend faded after the revolution.”
I narrowed my eyes.
The '48 revolution again?
“Even so, Your Majesty, the emperor was primarily taught by soldiers.”
“But wasn't there anyone to stop it midway? Like that old fogey Cardinal Rauscher you just mentioned.”
“Unfortunately, Cardinal Rauscher isn't the sort. He values a monarch's authority over God's love. He'd have encouraged it even more.”
“A cardinal?”
“He taught that the monarch is God's proxy, so challenging that authority is evil.”
“And the army is the way to smite evil, I suppose.”
A clergyman preaching to sweep away the disobedient instead of love and peace.
“Medieval Crusades? 'Kill them all, God will know his own' or something?”
“A bit extreme phrasing, but... that's the essence. He saw the blasphemous mobs during the revolution.”
Now the puzzle pieces fit.
Why Joseph's head is wired that way.
The diplomat taught the shell, the soldier made him play war games, and the cleric justified it as God's will.
The result of those three working together: the current 'emotionless workaholic emperor' Franz Joseph I.
“It's been years since indulgences stopped selling, and he's still spouting that nonsense.”
It's not just Mother resetting him every time I humanize him.
“Sisi.”
Who is this? Our hardworking emperor, buried in work every day.
“Sisi...”
Instead of answering, I set down my quill, crossed my arms.
“I have something to say.”
Franz Joseph signaled the maids to leave with a glance.
He dragged a chair over and sat across from me, meeting my eyes.
Not in the mood to meet eyes yet...
But since he came during work hours, I'll let it slide once.
“What is it?”
“A misunderstanding.”
“What misunderstanding?”
“That I have another woman—”
“Another woman?”
I shot up from my seat.
“You think I'll just roll over like other empresses?”
“No, I mean! There isn't one!”
Franz Joseph flailed his hands in defense.
“Then what was that just now?”
“...I just brought it up early so you wouldn't worry alone.”
If I'd known, I'd have secretly plucked a strand of his hair every night.
Bald emperor wouldn't be popular, even as emperor.
“I just heard that rumor for the first time.”
I'd groaned alone after marriage, but never heard whispers of another woman.
“Then why go there so often?”
“Just to check if the theater you're patronizing is running properly.”
His speech snaps back properly in moments like this—he's at least reading the room.
“That, we'll let slide for now. Not important.”
“Not important...? It's about our honor.”
“Rudolf matters more than honor right now.”
At Rudolf's name, Franz Joseph's demeanor shifted too.
“Sisi, Rudolf will grow up to be emperor. He's receiving the same army-like training. The Duke of Wales, the Bavarian crown prince—all of them.”
“Waking the crown prince with a gun in the bedroom?”
“Who could point a gun at the crown prince? It doesn't make sense.”
Franz Joseph said with a baffled expression.
Right? You know it's off too, don't you?
“That lunatic wakes the crown prince with a gun.”
“Sisi, you've read the education reports too. Rudolf is too frail to be emperor. The tutor is just building his courage to fix that temperament. I don't know where the rumor started, but it's probably baseless.”
Argh, it's real! So frustrating! Would they write 'pistol fired in crown prince's bedroom' if it wasn't?
As silence stretched between us, Esterházy returned, glancing at Franz Joseph.
“Your Majesty, the servants have finished preparing for the move.”
Franz Joseph asked me in a flustered voice.
“Move? Where to?”
What preparations? Prussia's an issue, but Rudolf's bigger.
“I told you. I'm leaving.”
So decide.
The tutor, or me.
