A Greater Union, Part 3
The Fateful Meeting
This is Part 3 of my less-than-serious Alternate History story where Austria-Hungary lives on to conquer big chunks of the world. You can see the origin story for this series here:
And if you’d like to jump into Part 1, you can do that here:
This portion of the story is set-up for the big change in Franz’s life. He meets a very famous historical figure, an event which will shape the direction of his life from here on out.
Enjoy!
Berlin, 1886
Franz’s cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and fury as they laughed at him.
His gloved hand gripped the stem of his wine glass and he stared into the sloshing liquid. The cluster of Prussian generals were all deep in their cups, as evidenced by their howling laughter at his animated description of the motor launch Nekar.
"My dear Archduke," General von Drucker said with scathing nonchalance, "this toy is indeed quite fascinating. But I can't help to think it somewhat odd that an Austrian nobleman has such an interest in watercraft. Do you have much use for a navy?"
"Austria-Hungary has a substantial coastline, gentlemen." Franz said stiffly. "The Croats of the Empire have a long maritime history. A great deal of trade comes in and out of our ports, which must be protected. Thus the need for a navy."
"I see, I see. The Adriatic, about as big as a good-sized lake, would likely be a good place to try this new-fangled invention."
Another round of laughter reignited the flames on his cheeks. He opened his mouth to snap at the men when they were interrupted.
"My apologies, gentlemen, but I am afraid I must steal away the Archduke from you." Foreign Minister Korospatak said. The gray-bearded Austro-Hungarian minister gently took Franz's arm and led him away from the still chuckling Prussians.
"Those generals…"
"Pay them no mind. Prussians believe they are God's gift to the world and could likely walk on water should they have a need. Next time try to avoid be drawn into a situation where they can ridicule you. Remember, with your cousin Crown Prince Rudolf ill and unable to attend, you are here a representative of His Majesty's Government here and should comport yourself as such."
Franz pulled his arm away from the Foreign Minister, stung doubly by the blasphemy and the criticism.
"I am aware I represent my Uncle's person and I always endeavor to present the best face for the Dual Monarchy."
"Good. You are about to have another opportunity."
Before Franz could ask what that meant, the Foreign Minister took his wine glass and handed it to a passing servant.
“When one is about to meet the Chancellor of the German Empire, one shouldn’t appear to be in such desperate need of wine.” Franz was too surprised to snap back at the man, especially given the twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Come, come.” Korospatak said as he ushered Franz through a cloud of courtiers.
They pushed through the group into a small open area surrounding a pair of older men. Strains of music swelled in the background as the two laughed together. He found himself jealous of the wine glasses they held. Had he still had his own glass, he would have tossed it back in one swallow if only to cure the dryness of his throat.
Otto von Bismarck, Chancellor of the German Empire, Prince of Bismarck, Count of Bismarck-Schonhausen, turned to face the approaching Austrians. His head was nearly bald on top, the rest long gone completely silver. Bushy eyebrows framed dark, sharp eyes and a face wrinkled with age. A respectable mustache hid his upper lip. As Franz drew close, he could see the bright, shrewd intelligence in the man’s eyes. Bismarck’s eyes flitted over Franz, measuring him, gauging him, before coming back to meet his own.
“Chancellor, may I present Archduke Franz Ferdinand Carl Ludwig Joseph Maria of Austria-Hungary. Your Highness, the Chancellor.” The Chancellor. The man needed little more introduction. The man who had bent the German Confederacy to his will, unifying them into the German Empire. A Prussian Empire in all but name. The man who orchestrated the defeat of the French in 1871. The man who, more than anyone, defined the political landscape of Europe as it drew to the end of the millennium.
“It is my pleasure, Chancellor.” Franz extended a hand which the Chancellor took and shook with a firm grip.
Next time, we’ll see how this fateful meeting changes the course of Franz’s life, and the course of world events.
What do you think of this story so far? Let me know in the comments.
Until next time, thanks for reading!
Loving it Zane. 👏
"More, please" in an Oliver Twist voice.