Archduke Ferdinand
Waldemar's first impression of Archduke Franz Ferdinand was of a taciturn young man, painfully reserved with strangers.
"I am Joachim Friedrich Ernst Waldemar of Prussia. My friends call me Waldi."
"Franz Ferdinand Karl Ludwig Joseph Maria of Austria."
The Archduke responded rather stiffly to Waldemar's sociable greeting. Before the atmosphere could turn awkward, Waldemar introduced Alix, who stood with her arm linked through his.
"This is my fiancée, Alix Victoria Helene Luise Beatrix of Hesse-Darmstadt."
"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Your Imperial Highness."
Even Ferdinand's manner softened somewhat before so beautiful a young woman.
"The honor is mine, to meet so lovely a princess."
With Alix between them, the Archduke—so withdrawn at first—managed a measure of sociability. Whether it was simple courtesy toward a lady or a genuine liking for the pretty girl herself, his demeanor had improved considerably from those opening moments.
Waldemar shot Alix a thumbs-up.
He had researched Ferdinand's inclinations in advance, and so he steered the conversation toward a subject the Archduke was sure to enjoy. He began with Rome.
Honestly, I don't know jack shit about Roman history.
Even the scraps he had picked up from YouTube were thin. He had read Nanami Shiono's The Story of the Roman People once, as a bit of "cultivation," but that was hardly a proper history book. Still, the virtue of half-baked erudition was that it made bluffing remarkably easy.
Waldemar spun the old lady's ersatz Roman tales with convincing flair, and Ferdinand nodded along at every turn.
"Well said. Rome fell because it rotted from the head down."
They were speaking of Rome. In truth, they were speaking of Austria.
"In the end, I believe it was the consequence of failing to reform in time."
Ferdinand agreed, and put a question to him.
"Could a Rome already in decline have found a way to live again?"
A way for Austria to live again. Waldemar did not believe it was impossible.
"I believe it was entirely possible. Whenever a capable ruler met a favorable moment, did Rome not rise again more than once?"
Ferdinand nodded at that.
"Then do you believe this age's Roman Empire still has a chance at reform?"
He no longer bothered with metaphors. He was talking about Austria.
"Of course it does. Provided, of course, that there is no interference from outside."
"Interference. You mean Russia."
While Ferdinand sank into thought, Alix poured tea for them both. Waldemar thanked her, then went on.
"Fortunately, Austria has a friend of the same blood—Germany."
"If that friend does not abandon us, yes."
Ferdinand made no effort to hide his wariness of Bismarck's double-dealing diplomacy. Had their positions been reversed, Waldemar would have thought the same.
"Germany will never abandon Austria."
"Does Your Highness have the authority to make such a promise on Germany's behalf?"
"Of course not."
"Then—"
"Because in the present international situation, Germany cannot abandon Austria. Do not put your faith in something as hollow as a promise. Put your faith in a situation from which Germany cannot possibly defect."
Something deepened in Ferdinand's eyes.
"Your Highness says rather interesting things. Trust the situation rather than the treaty."
"Treaties can be broken. No one can betray a situation."
"That is certainly true," Ferdinand said, nodding.
The Archduke sipped his tea. A brief silence settled over them before he spoke again.
"Let us speak of something other than diplomacy. In truth, had I not wished to ask you this, I would not have come to see Your Highness at all."
"Please."
"I have heard that Your Highness is well known in society for your charity and volunteer work. Why would a man of your station go beyond mere donations—taking even your fiancée along to serve at orphanages and the like?"
Waldemar answered with a grave expression.
"To keep the state from collapsing."
"To keep the state from collapsing?"
"A dike always gives way from the smallest hole."
Ferdinand looked faintly impressed.
"Even so, there is no need for Your Highness and the Princess alone to labor at plugging that hole, is there?"
Waldemar's answer was firm.
"In the Far East there is a saying that even ordinary people bear responsibility for the rise and fall of the state. How much more so, then, for a prince such as myself?"
"The duty of royalty."
For the first time, Ferdinand felt a powerful kinship with the prince sitting across from him. Here was a royal who lacked the power to act, yet overflowed with a sense of mission toward his country. The Archduke himself was no different. That kinship closed the remaining distance between them.
"Your Imperial Highness must feel that responsibility even more keenly than I."
As a leading member of the imperial house—and a plausible future emperor—the words were anything but empty flattery.
"Though it does nothing to change reality," Ferdinand said bitterly.
"Changing reality is easier than one might think."
Ferdinand stared at him as if he had taken leave of his senses.
"If it were easy, why have so many reformers throughout history failed?"
"I am not speaking of grand reforms."
Waldemar told the Archduke a story he had once seen on YouTube.
Admiral William McRaven of the United States Navy had once addressed a graduating class of university students with these words of encouragement.
"If you want to change the world, start with the small things."
He advised them to begin with the modest accomplishment of making their bed each morning, and from there to attempt a little more each day.
"If you cannot do the small things right, you will never do the big things right."
The Admiral taught that each small accomplishment was a comfort in itself, and a source of hope for the next day. And once that practice hardened into discipline, he said, it would become the engine that carried a man toward success.
Archduke Ferdinand listened, visibly moved. As a soldier who prized strict discipline and diligence as virtues, the Admiral's counsel suited him perfectly.
"Change things starting from the smallest."
"That is the power that changes reality."
At Waldemar's advice, Ferdinand rose from his seat and bowed.
"Your Imperial Highness?"
"That is merely the courtesy due the lesson you have just given me."
Waldemar was a little taken aback by the Archduke's formality.
"I think I can see a path now, however faintly."
"You mean reform?"
Ferdinand nodded.
"From now on, I intend to start with the small things I can do in my daily life."
The words left a deep impression on Waldemar as well. If the Archduke truly meant to change things from the ground up, then this man had hope. And perhaps so did this old empire, for which no answer had seemed to exist.
"That is an excellent thought."
"Is that not already what Your Highness is doing?"
Of course Waldemar was making an effort as well—only not for the Empire, but for himself. His gaze found Alix. For a future with her.
"Yes. I am always making the effort."
"That is admirable."
Ferdinand felt a genuine respect for Prince Waldemar, five years his junior. He himself was a leading heir to an imperial throne; that was one thing. Waldemar was, in truth, nothing at all. Even if the Kaiser died tomorrow, there were the Kaiser's own children—and after them, Heinrich, another elder brother. He had no prospect of succeeding to the throne, nor even the favor of his elder brother, and yet he labored day and night for the sake of the state. The sight left a profound impression.
This is what a true royal looks like. This is the proper model of a royal house.
So Ferdinand thought. And so it seemed the rumors were true, at least this once. Waldemar was every bit as fine a man as people said.
Ferdinand found himself wanting to grow closer to him. Waldemar felt the same. Before long, they agreed to address each other by nicknames.
"Waldi. It feels good, calling you that."
"I was thinking the same thing, Ferdi."
They both burst out laughing.
"Though you'd better not try a nickname on Alix."
Waldemar and Ferdinand talked for a long time in the drawing room—reform, politics, society, diplomacy, the military, everything. The more they talked, the more thoroughly Ferdinand fell for his new friend. Waldemar liked Ferdinand so well that he ventured a joke.
"Ha. If only we were actually family."
At those words, a light went on in Ferdinand's mind.
Family?
Come to think of it, Prince Waldemar still had two unmarried sisters. If he were to marry one of them—
Ferdinand considered it. Privately, he would deepen his bond with Waldemar. Publicly, he would gain Prussian support as fuel for reform. At the very least, wrapped in the form of family, even Germany's conservative Kaiser would not be able to press him too openly. The more he thought about it, the more appealing a union with Waldemar's sister became.
"Ferdi, what are you thinking so hard about?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
So he said—but Archduke Ferdinand was already fully committed to the idea of winning over Waldemar's sister.
"Anyway, we're as close as family now. If anything's troubling you, get in touch. I can at least share the burden of a worry."
Ferdinand smiled at that.
"Of course. We're going to be as close as family—I won't stand on ceremony."
Waldemar did not catch the double meaning.
When the conversation ended and Archduke Ferdinand had taken his leave, Alix poured a fresh cup of tea.
"You must be thirsty. Have a cup."
"Thank you, Alix."
Waldemar drained the lukewarm tea and turned to his fiancée.
"Alix, what do you make of Ferdi?"
"Just a sincere, rather stiff sort of person. Clever, of course."
"I see."
But if a man like that ever changed, he could produce an enormous transformation.
I hope you pull it off, Ferdi.
Waldemar decided he would watch to see what change the Archduke would bring to the old empire.