Josef, who had returned to Vienna with me, did not tell me, but he had sold the rights to lay the Brenner Pass railway to the bourgeoisie of Milan.
“Josef, do you have something to say?”
“…I do not.”
I was scolding Josef as I stroked my belly, which had grown full before I knew it.
You said you’d be careful, you said you were confident, you said I should trust only you.
“You said you’d send me to London.”
“I don’t believe I ever said I would send you to London.”
Are you making excuses right now?
“I’m going to London.”
“You’re joking, aren’t you? You intend to go to England in that state?”
Denial.
“Do you have no idea how rough the waves of the Strait of Dover are? You’ve already been there.”
Anger.
“I’ll summon every imperial physician. Listen with your own ears to what they say! What are you going to do if you come down with childbed fever?”
Bargaining.
“Please, listen to me. We can’t joke around with your health at stake.”
Depression.
When I remained silent despite Josef’s pleading, he kept his head bowed for a long while.
Then, after a long silence, he tossed out the words as if in surrender.
“…Then let’s have the child at Miramare Castle instead.”
Acceptance.
After three months of sleeping in separate rooms, Josef had come back with an entirely different answer.
“Isn’t that where Max lives?”
“He left for London.”
“Why?”
“Maximilian was dismissed as of today. Besides, you like places with a view of the sea. It’s warmer than Vienna, too.”
I said I wanted to go to London….
Josef took my hand and gently stroked it.
“It’s for you and the children. All right?”
I pouted and nodded.
“Then please send a letter to Count Buol.”
“What letter?”
“Tell him to visit Rugby School.”
“Not Eton?”
Eton is too conservative. I don’t think it would be much different from Habsburg court etiquette.
“Bertie told me that they’re trying to turn rugby into a sport in England these days.”
I lightly waved the letter I had received from Bertie.
“Rugby?”
Josef looked as though he could not understand at all.
To be honest, compared to Eton, Rugby School doesn’t really have many famous names.
Perhaps only the future ‘peace for our time’ of our era?
“Yes. Do you know what football is?”
“Since it’s foot and ball, is it kicking a ball?”
“But they say rugby is a kind of football where you can use your hands. You roll around in the mud, slam your body into others, and fight to seize the ball. Apparently, it’s a way to raise strong leaders, the kind you want.”
A sound mind in a sound body.
Those were words Josef would like.
“Rudolf is rather timid, after all.”
“Tell Count Buol to go and report back in detail on their curriculum. Especially how much weight they place on physical education.”
“I know you’re very interested in Rudolf’s education.”
I tried to rise from my seat, but because of my heavy body, I waddled.
“Careful.”
Josef hurriedly supported me.
“Thank you. Still, if I’m going to Miramare, I’ll have to pack.”
“I’ve already instructed the attendants. All you need to do is go.”
“If you miss me, write me letters.”
Sports are culture, so it should be fine for me, the empress, to meddle, right?
For the upper class, riding, fencing, and hunting are not mere exercise, but, well, accomplishments one is naturally expected to possess.
The justification that I was raising him to be a leader who enjoyed the latest fashionable culture of the British aristocracy was suitable enough, too.
Having finished rationalizing it, I immediately left for Trieste.
*
Heavily pregnant, I stood on the terrace of Miramare Palace with a telescope in hand, looking down at the port of Trieste.
The warships filled with Maximilian’s affection lay silently at anchor.
Their flags drooped like dogs that had lost their master.
Humming to myself, I was checking the navy roster one name at a time.
Who would be best?
There were heaps of reports saying that those fellows called fleet commanders spent more time attending balls than aboard ships.
I know Maximilian loved the navy, but he spoiled it too much.
It would have been nice if Austria had survived until World War II.
Then I would have known from the battleships that appeared in ship games.
At most, there was the World War I dreadnought SMS Viribus Unitis, or…
This man, since there was the SMS Tegetthoff class.
“Königsegg, summon Tegetthoff before me.”
Königsegg looked puzzled, but carried out my order.
No wonder.
“Your Majesty the Empress, Lieutenant Colonel Tegetthoff has arrived.”
“Send him in.”
After all, it was rare for a mere lieutenant colonel to have an audience with the empress.
Was he about the same age as Josef?
He walked three or four steps forward, then stopped with knife-like precision.
This is annoying for me too every time.
I admired that stiff salute for a moment, then lightly crooked a finger.
The instant permission to approach was given, he moved again.
From here began that dreadful rule of three steps.
Three steps, then a bow.
Another three steps, and another bow.
Just watching it was enough to make me dizzy.
When he arrived before me, I offered him my right hand.
Tegetthoff knelt on one knee and stopped before his lips touched it.
“Your Most Gracious Majesty the Empress.”
I waited until he had shown sufficient courtesy.
“Rise, Lieutenant Colonel.”
There really was a reason the Shadow Monarch shouted that so often.
I had considered trying to change this, but audiences in other countries were similar too.
I gazed at him, his lips firmly shut.
Looking at his uniform, which bore only his rank insignia, he did not seem particularly interested in reputation.
Usually, a noble officer with this many years of service would come dangling with commemorative medals from some event or decorations bearing his family crest.
That settles it.
He has no interest in politics. He does not know how to flatter, nor does he know how to line himself up behind anyone.
Maximilian may have liked him, but the people around Max must have thoroughly excluded Tegetthoff and shoved him into a corner.
“Lieutenant Colonel Tegetthoff.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Do you like this palace?”
He briefly moved his eyes, sweeping over the ornate decorations and curtains, then gave a dry answer.
“I like that I can see the sea.”
In other words, the only thing he found of value in this splendid palace was the sea beyond the window.
I like him.
Unfortunately, however, I have no authority to promote him.
That is Josef’s prerogative.
When I rose from my seat, he flinched and stepped back.
As if Josef and I aren’t on excellent terms.
“I have an army escort, but they cannot guard me when I go out on a yacht, can they? So I would like you to be responsible for my safety.”
“I understand that a guard fleet has already been organized.”
“If I had been satisfied, they would be standing before me, would they not?”
Publicly, I’m a liberal too. How about it?
“I shall obey your command, Your Majesty.”
A clean, no-frills answer. I like it very much.
“Good. You must have been on coastal watch, so you may go.”
A few days later, he gave me an answer at once.
I would like to give him extra points for the fact that, although he has no interest in politics, it is not that he does not know how to do politics.
“Esterházy.”
I handed her the list Tegetthoff had submitted.
“Deliver this to His Majesty the Emperor.”
Authority over military appointments belongs to Josef and Josef alone.
I would like to erase Maximilian’s colors and restructure the navy as well, but I have no justification. In that situation, my safety, which Josef cares about most, is more than enough of a pretext.
He will not go to balls, so he will not waste money on useless ceremonial expenses; he is not an admiral swaggering about while relying only on Maximilian; and he is the kind of practical soldier Josef would like.
Hnnngh, there.
For now, the navy has been put in some order too, so shall I rest comfortably?
“Gisela, do you have something you want to say?”
I spoke to Gisela, who was peeking in at me from outside the door.
Seeing her only shake her head, she resembles Josef’s taciturn nature.
Sophie and Rudolf say whatever they want, whether I am pregnant or not.
“Königsegg, take Gisela out riding.”
When I see things like this, I understand why parents love their children.
Little miniatures who share hobbies similar to mine or Josef’s. It is quite enjoyable to see the other person through the children.
“Come to think of it, I don’t think any of the children have hobbies similar to Josef’s.”
“Are His Majesty the Emperor’s hobbies not similar to Your Majesty’s?”
Ida answered my question, but, well…?
What does Josef like again?
Hunting, work, and me?
“When he first showed me a play, I thought we were well matched.”
In the end, it had been his effort to bewitch me.
When I thought of that blunt emperor memorizing the plot of a play he had no interest in just to say one more word to me….
“Ida, bring me writing paper. His Majesty the Emperor must be bored, so I should send him some homework.”
Once my postpartum confinement was over, it would be fine weather for hunting in Bad Ischl.
Going riding together would be fun too.
That was what I was thinking when it happened.
“…Your Majesty.”
With a glance, I sent the other children away and met Esterházy alone.
“What is it?”
She looked quite cautious, unlike herself.
“I fear that Your Majesty may walk the same path as the one who met such a tragic end in France.”
So Esterházy had been anxious that I might be witch-hunted like Archduchess Maria Antonia.
The empress’s private circle always tended to feel that way. On top of that, there was being a foreign-born queen, suspicion of interfering in state affairs, and even luxury.
Mother-in-law’s case was an exceptional situation in which the emperors effectively could not conduct affairs themselves.
“Esterházy. Do I often go out into society?”
“No.”
“I only appear occasionally at official events.”
But no one except those closest to me in Vienna knows that, do they?
I am not visible to the citizens of Vienna.
Is it any wonder the newspapers keep emphasizing the word mystery?
“Esterházy. I think you worry too much because you have seen Josef caught between me and Mother.”
To be honest, it is true that Josef, caught between the two of us, looks like a man more indecisive than Louis XVI.
Perhaps thinking her interference had been needless worry, Esterházy took a step back and bent her knee.
“Rise. If you asked the other nobles, they would probably say he is a stubborn principled man beyond anyone else. You may ask Count Grünne as well.”
It still feels terribly awkward to speak informally to someone old enough to be my grandmother.
And one needs this sort of luxury now and then.
“Do not worry. Sell the cotton you have been saving in Bohemia at a suitable price.”
With the Civil War going on, cotton prices have been soaring sky-high, haven’t they?
Until Egyptian cotton is released, the factories have to keep running so capital will circulate.
In the meantime, I should update Josef.
“Thump-Thump Kaiser Maker v7.11”