Chapter 947: The Engagement Ceremony and the Best Betrothal Gift
In a luxury villa across the street from Schönbrunn Palace, Kaunitz reclined in his lounge chair. As he listened to his son-in-law describe the French aid, a slow smile spread across his face.
"Clemens, you see? It turns out I was right."
His spirits were exceptionally high today, and he spoke at length without pause.
"In the end, we still have to rely on France for help."
Metternich nodded. "And it is thanks to the political legacy you left for the Empire."
He was referring to his father-in-law’s masterstroke in arranging Queen Mary’s marriage to France years ago.
Kaunitz reached out and took his son-in-law’s hand—it had been a long time since he had made such a vigorous movement. He said earnestly, "But you must remember, Austria is a nation bound together by blood and inheritance. Diplomacy is our greatest strength."
"What is diplomacy?"
"It is the art of finding common ground among many nations, regardless of our differences, and utilizing that interest to deal with..."
There was no response.
Metternich felt Kaunitz’s hand slip from his grasp, falling limp. Startled, he quickly checked the older man’s neck, only to find no pulse.
"Someone come quickly!" he shouted toward the door. "Get a doctor!"
At one o'clock in the afternoon, Kaunitz, the political master who had single-handedly forged the Franco-Austrian alliance, passed away.
It seemed to signal that the final glimmers of the Empire’s twilight, which had begun fifty years ago during the era of Empress Maria Theresa, had finally faded with him.
...
In Saint Petersburg, the Russian capital.
Countless flowers and ribbons adorned the Winter Palace. The air was thick with the sounds of music and laughter.
Thousands of nobles gathered along the sides of the road, craning their necks to look into the distance while chatting excitedly in French.
"Her Majesty’s foresight is truly unparalleled. France has actually defeated all its rivals!"
"You’re forgetting Britain, though they can’t set foot on land anyway. Now we have the most powerful ally on the European continent."
"The future Queen of France will be a Russian, haha! A union between the two greatest royal houses in Europe!"
"Even the haughty French have acknowledged us. It feels like a dream..."
Indeed, Russia was a country where Francophiles could be found everywhere.
To be precise, almost the entire Russian nobility was enamored with France.
Previously, they had merely admired French culture and fashion, but now they added a new item to the list—French military might.
Russia was a nation that deeply respected strength. After France crushed the Anti-French Coalition, their adoration for all things French reached new heights.
Relying on her keen political instincts, Catherine II had "invested" in France early on, securing the Franco-Russian marriage alliance and earning praise from across the country.
This also allowed her to escape the political crisis brought about by the failures in the Russo-Polish conflict.
Now, the nobles of Saint Petersburg talked only of their future French Crown Princess and the bright future of the alliance. No one spoke anymore of overthrowing the Empress or having Grand Duke Paul ascend the throne early.
As the engagement ceremony drew near, the Empire gradually forgot the shadows of war and began preparing for the next conflict with renewed vigor.
Such was Russia—either at war or preparing for one.
During the brief intervals of peace, they usually staged a few coups to keep the atmosphere lively.
Finally, the deafening roar of a ceremonial salute rang out.
Immediately afterward, the court orchestra began a spirited performance.
All the nobles fell silent, turning their eyes toward the dozen or so carriages approaching from the end of the road.
The convoy soon stopped in the square before the Winter Palace. A servant pulled open the door of the lead carriage, and Louis Antoine, the eldest son of the French Count of Artois, stepped down as the official envoy for the marriage.
Behind him followed the French Foreign Minister, Talleyrand, and several others.
The Winter Palace immediately erupted in a wave of thunderous cheers.
Grand Duke Paul welcomed the group and led them to Catherine II. After a series of tedious formalities, they entered the palace surrounded by the nobility.
Since the marriage agreement had been signed long ago, they moved directly into the engagement proceedings.
Walking beside the Empress, Antoine gestured gracefully toward the carriages in the square and smiled. "Respected Empress, my dear cousin has meticulously prepared some betrothal gifts."
Catherine II assumed it would be gold, silver, or jewelry. Seeing the sheer number of carriages, she appeared quite pleased. "Thank Joseph for his thoughtfulness. He is truly generous. I am sure Alexandra will love them."
According to European custom, betrothal gifts usually consisted of the bride's gowns and jewelry and were rarely excessive. It was the dowry that was expected to be substantial.
A dozen carriages of betrothal gifts was considered quite a lot.
Antoine gave a meaningful smile. "Your Majesty, in truth, most of these gifts are not for the Princess. Furthermore, there is more than what you see here. Because they are difficult to transport and somewhat dangerous, the majority are stored on the outskirts of the city."
"Oh?" Catherine II asked curiously. "What exactly did Joseph send?"
"Charleville flintlock muskets," Antoine replied. "Brand new, shining like gemstones. Thirty-three thousand in total. Each musket comes with fifty rounds of ammunition."
Catherine II’s eyes immediately lit up, and she laughed so hard her double chin trembled. "Haha! That is truly the best gift. Joseph is the finest husband in all of Europe. Oh, I’m almost jealous of Alexandra."
Joseph had already decided to re-equip the entire French army with percussion cap muskets, while the central corps would even use expensive rifles as standard equipment. The massive surplus of flintlock muskets needed to be put to good use.
French-made flintlocks were the finest in Europe, their quality far surpassing Russian versions. It was no wonder Catherine was so delighted.
Since the Russian army was accepting so many weapons from Joseph, they could hardly refuse his request to conduct some maneuvers in Livonia.
Livonia was right next to East Prussia, only a few dozen kilometers away.
Moreover, these muskets would serve another critical purpose in the near future.
After another round of lengthy engagement rituals, they reached the final stage.
Alexandra appeared at the main entrance of the Winter Palace, dressed in a gown of ivory silk. Her beautiful large eyes looked nervously at the crowd cheering her on, her youthful face filled with anticipation for her future happiness.
Her soft skirt trailed across the parquet floor like spring sunlight sweeping over a colorful field.
Maids followed closely behind, carrying a three-meter-long lace veil.
Sixty or seventy officers of the Imperial Guard, hands on their sword hilts and heads held high, escorted her on both sides.
Behind them followed a group of pages carrying sable-lined hand warmers, the Princess’s dressing kits, and jewelry boxes.
The melodious notes of the pipe organ rose, and the nobles outside bowed their heads in unison, paying their respects to the future Crown Princess of France.
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