Chapter 73: The Rulers (3) February 27, 1790.
Vienna, Austria—Holy Roman Empire.
Inside the heavy doors of the Habsburg royal crypt, an old priest spoke solemnly toward what lay beyond.
"Who comes?"
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Outside the door, a man in a black suit struck the heavy door with his cane, then read from the booklet in his hand.
"His Majesty is Archduke of the Archduchy of Austria, King of Hungary and Croatia, Slovenia and Illyria, Bohemia and Lombardy, Grand Duke of Parma and Bavaria, and Joseph Benedict Anton Michael Adam, Kaiser of the subjects of the Holy Roman Empire!"
The old priest inside answered the man firmly.
"We do not know who he is."
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The cane struck the door again.
"Who comes?"
At the priest's question, the man opened the next page of the booklet and slowly read the print.
"Joseph Benedict Anton Michael Adam! Architect of the Burgtheater, founder of the laws of the Holy Roman Empire, honorary dean of countless universities, and a noble hero who fought the heathens to reclaim Constantinople!"
"We do not know who he is."
Bang. Bang. Bang.
When the cane struck the door one last time with force, the priest spoke toward the outside again.
"Who comes?"
From beyond the door, a single plain sentence reached the priest.
"Joseph. A mere sinful human."
"Then enter."
The Emperor.
The Kaiser died.
Whether it's my past life or this one, my life is definitely cursed. How does nothing but pure shit keep happening?
What the hell did I do wrong?
Aside from sneaking out over the fence a few times during high school night study to go mess around with friends, I lived pretty exemplary.
"…God, I want a cigarette."
A cigarette—what even is it? A devilish thing that makes even the dead want to smoke, apparently.
"Huh? You don't smoke."
At what slipped out of me, Mathieu looked at me like he was puzzled and tilted his head.
"I don't smoke—I quit."
"…Yeah? How long have you quit?"
"…Nineteen years."
"What? Nineteen years is basically when you were born, Guillaume. That's not 'quit'—that's 'never smoked.'"
Mathieu spoke like he was telling me not to be ridiculous.
"…Anyway, it's like that."
Just then, while I was muttering outside the royal crypt after the funeral, someone approached and spoke.
"Your Excellency Finance Minister Guillaume, greetings."
A square-jawed, middle-aged noble took off his black hat, dipped his head slightly, and extended his hand to me.
"Ah, the Duke of Brunswick."
After one handshake, the Duke of Brunswick bowed to me again with a regretful expression.
"As a guest of the Holy Roman Empire, rather than showing you something auspicious, we can only show you such a gloomy atmosphere. I can only apologize."
"No. Who could have known the Kaiser would pass away."
Life and death are in Heaven's hands, isn't that what they say? How is anyone supposed to know and prepare for that?
The duke's expression loosened somewhat at my words, and he spoke.
"Hearing you say that eases my heart a little. Thank you."
"Haha. It's nothing."
"Ah, Your Excellency Finance Minister. Today, because many nobles and distinguished figures have gathered in Vienna for the funeral, I intend to bring them together in one place for conversation. Do you have time this afternoon? You needn't come, of course, but… I thought it might be a chance to build good connections."
"Build good connections," huh. That sounds like the line cults use when they hand out pamphlets.
At the duke's sudden suggestion, I let my eyes flick around for a moment, then said,
"…I've got time."
The Kaiser I was supposed to meet and talk with died, so my schedule is completely empty now.
"Then I truly hope you will attend and honor the gathering with your presence."
At the duke bowing again, I nodded slightly and replied.
"Yeah. All right."
"Thank you, Your Excellency. Then I will send an attendant at the appointed time."
"…Guillaume. Are you sure you should go?"
After we returned to our lodging, our group gathered in the sitting room and began to chew on what the Duke of Brunswick had said.
"Who knows. There's nothing else to do anyway. We can go, read the room, and if it feels off, we leave immediately."
I answered Mathieu's question.
Then, across from me, Grussy rubbed his chin with a serious expression and spoke.
"…Strange."
"Why, Grussy?"
"The sovereign they served has died, yet not a single person shed even one tear. No matter how cold-blooded Germans are, isn't it common sense that at least one person should?"
At Grussy's words, I frowned briefly, then looked at Major Davout sitting beside me and spoke.
"…Major Davout."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Bring the French ambassador stationed in the Holy Roman Empire. As quickly as possible."
"As you command."
They say the best writing and the best speech explain everything with a single sentence.
This was exactly that.
I read aloud so everyone could hear the one-line letter sent from the French embassy stationed in the Holy Roman Empire.
"'The late Kaiser, Joseph II, was a fervent Enlightenment advocate and a reformist.' I understand this situation completely—what do you all think?"
The first to speak was Mathieu.
"It feels like what we had in France until recently is happening here too."
Then Grussy.
"I'm similar to Mathieu. The Kaiser everyone hated died, so now the nobles are gathering to overhaul a system they disliked."
Major Louis Nicolas Davout also nodded and spoke to me.
"That is also my view."
"Mm."
As expected.
While everyone let out low groans, Mathieu tilted his head and started talking again.
"Then why invite Guillaume? Let them fight among themselves over their empire—what does it have to do with us French?"
Grussy put aside his usual playful demeanor, bit down on his lip, scanned all of us, and said,
"…I think it's a warning."
"A warning?"
When I repeated the word, Grussy nodded and continued.
"Yes. Don't stir up trouble in Vienna—stay quiet until the next Kaiser takes the throne, then go back. A warning aimed at you, Guillaume."
Mm.
"That's a solid point."
Whether I like it or not—though I definitely don't like it.
I'm already an icon of the citizens and a key figure of the French revolutionary government.
From those nobles' perspective, they won't want sparks landing in their peaceful front yard.
I inhaled deeply once, exhaled, and told everyone,
"No matter what, the best move is to go and check the atmosphere ourselves."
"If our guess is right, they'll see you as a thorn in their side. Isn't that too dangerous?"
Mathieu said to me with a grimace.
"They say if you know yourself and know the enemy, you won't be defeated in a hundred battles. Seeing it once will help a lot more when we're making countermeasures."
"…K-know yourself what?"
Ah. He doesn't know it.
"…It's an Eastern proverb."
Just then, I heard Major Nicolas Davout's voice.
"Your Excellency, may I offer a word?"
"Yes. Go ahead, Major."
When I nodded, the major asked me with a serious face.
"May I draft an escort plan in case of emergency?"
"Of course."
You always prepare for the worst.
The scheduled return date is mid-March.
Today is late February.
Within a month, I have to leave Corsica no matter what.
Napoleon stared at the ceiling and let out a long sigh before speaking.
"…This one hit hard."
A few days earlier, after hearing on the mainland about his brother's leave, his younger brother had come.
Lucien Bonaparte asked, his face twisted with worry.
"Brother. What are you going to do?"
At his brother's question, Napoleon inhaled deeply once more, exhaled, and slowly spoke.
"What can I do? I've got no choice but to follow Teacher Paoli's words."
At Napoleon speaking so flatly, Lucien's eyes widened.
"You're going to take charge of that man's personal guard? Brother—what if you die?!"
Even at Lucien shouting, Napoleon just kept speaking calmly.
"If I run now, the Bonapartes will never be able to come back to Corsica. We'll have to abandon Maison Bonaparte where we grew up, abandon everything we're attached to, and flee to the French mainland to survive."
"…"
At his brother like that, Lucien could only bite down hard on his lip, unable to say anything. The taste of blood began to linger on his tongue.
After finishing, Napoleon looked steadily at Lucien and spoke.
"Hey. Lucien."
At his brother calling him, Lucien lifted his head from the floor and looked at him again.
"…Why are you calling me."
Seeing Lucien speak with such a serious face, Napoleon let out a small snort of laughter.
"You're a guy who's supposed to be a lawyer—did you get pressured a little in court and now you've got a face like you're about to die?"
Lucien stuck out his lips and complained back.
"…In court, at least you don't die just because you lost a hearing."
"Look at this bastard Lucien—studies law and now his mouth gets sharper, trying to eat his brother alive with words."
As he said it, Napoleon ruffled his younger brother's hair back and forth. Like old times—
Like the brothers they'd been as kids.
Seeing his second brother like that, Lucien fumed and snapped.
"Ah, stop it! I'm not in the mood for jokes."
"It's not a joke, you idiot. Hahaha!"
Even with his brother smiling so happily, Lucien kept firing back with a face full of anger.
"With all that talking, you still can't get out of this situation. So what's the point? Can you float a ship with words? Can you go back and forth to France with them?"
"Enough. Even if you get dragged into a tiger's den, if you keep your head, you live—that's what they say."
No matter how much Lucien spoke in anger or snapped, his brother just kept laughing and spitting out words Lucien couldn't make sense of.
"…And where did you swallow down that weird line from?"
In the end, Lucien forced his anger down and asked, like he was playing along with his brother's inexplicable words.
"Guillaume told me. A close friend. Some 'mysteries of the East' or whatever."
"…Don't tell me you mean Finance Minister Guillaume."
"Yeah."
At Napoleon's words, Lucien's mouth fell open, and only a broken sound came out.
"Holy… shit…"
"Anyway, it's what that bastard told me. Even if you walk into enemy territory, a chance to break through always comes at least once."
So keep your head on straight, Lucien.
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