In the eyes of Morin, who held a hint of a “tourist mindset” examining it from an appreciative angle, the nights in Vienna always carried a kind of decadent magnificence.
Even immediately following an attempted coup.
Morin sat in a temporary command tent set up outside Vienna Westbahnhof. The telegram forwarded from Dresden by the embassy lay on the camp table.
The content was simple: He and the instruction unit’s regimental headquarters were to stand by in Vienna temporarily.
Because Crown Prince Georg, who had arrived at the Austro-Hungarian border front early, would be returning to Vienna, Morin was needed to receive him there.
Upon receiving the telegram, the Saxon Ambassador to Vienna also informed the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Ministry and the Army General Staff currently responsible for temporary control of Vienna about this situation.
Whether it was the Austro-Hungarian Foreign Ministry or Field Marshal Conrad and the others, they obviously couldn’t refuse this request.
After all, Georg was the Crown Prince of Saxony. His arrival could be considered a “reassurance pill” for the somewhat turbulent Vienna political scene following the coup.
It indicated that the Saxon Empire currently still stood with the Austro-Hungarian Empire and could play a role in assisting to maintain stability.
And from a personal standpoint, the Saxon Crown Prince Georg was coming to Vienna to visit his aunt. Could they really stop him?
So Morin and the instruction unit’s regimental headquarters simply set up a temporary camp outside Vienna Westbahnhof to rest and wait for Crown Prince Georg to return from the border.
Over the next two days, the instruction unit was not idle.
Although nominally resting, Morin still arranged for soldiers to assist the newly recovered Austro-Hungarian military in conducting a carpet search around the train station.
After all, an attempted armed coup had just occurred in the capital, so neither Conrad nor Morin wanted the Saxon Crown Prince to encounter any mishaps on the Austro-Hungarian side.
Two days later, in the afternoon, the train carrying Crown Prince Georg and his entourage approached Vienna. To be safe, they chose to travel on the Saxon military train that hadn’t yet returned home.
At this moment, in that luxuriously decorated exclusive carriage, Saxon Crown Prince Georg sat by the window, watching the gradually sharpening silhouette of Vienna outside.
Seeing Vienna drawing closer, Georg was also filled with mixed emotions.
This Saxon Imperial Crown Prince considered himself someone who had seen storms and waves, but upon receiving the telegram from Dresden a few days ago, he was still dumbfounded by its contents.
He had truly never seen a series of events like those that transpired in Vienna…
And his adjutant, along with the Fifth Army Group’s Chief of Staff Knobelsdorff and others, after reading the telegram, were initially astonished, and then subsequently praised that all this was because Crown Prince Georg fully supported Morin in establishing the instruction unit.
If Georg hadn’t supported Morin back then, there would be no instruction unit today.
According to the armed rebellion described in the telegram, the Austro-Hungarian Empire might really have undergone a regime change.
Although Georg felt somewhat secretly pleased inwardly by these flatteries from his subordinates, he didn’t show it.
And the telegram sent to him from Dresden also mentioned having him act as the representative of the Saxon Imperial family to proceed to Vienna and release certain signals to the outside world.
Another separate telegram sent to him indicated his father, Albert II, needed him to visit his aunt, Maria Josepha, and her family.
Crown Prince Georg had a high level of tacit understanding with his father, and he always looked further ahead. So he quickly guessed Albert II’s secondary meaning—the Empire probably hoped to seize this opportunity to intervene in the internal affairs of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
And this breakthrough point was his aunt. As a Saxon Princess married into Vienna, she was indeed the most suitable choice in terms of status.
“Your Highness, we are about to pull into the station,” the adjutant reminded softly.
Georg nodded slightly, putting these thoughts aside for the moment, though his gaze still wandered somewhat.
The train slowly pulled into the platform at Vienna Westbahnhof.
Coincidentally, the platform this train stopped at was the exact same one where Morin’s military train had stopped a few days ago…
For the visit of an allied Crown Prince, the Austro-Hungarian Empire naturally accorded extremely high etiquette.
Not only was the platform temporarily spruced up, but a red carpet was even laid out, surrounded by neatly arrayed Royal Guard soldiers and a military band.
The Chief of the Austro-Hungarian Army General Staff, Field Marshal Conrad, who was also the true wielder of power during the comprehensive martial law in Vienna, along with a group of high-ranking officials, lined up on the platform to welcome him.
Unsurprisingly, Morin also stood in the welcoming lineup.
The train slowly pulled in. The massive steel wheels ground against the rails, emitting a piercing screech of brakes.
This special train bearing the Saxon royal crest finally came to a steady stop at the end of the red carpet.
The door opened, and Crown Prince Georg, wearing a Saxon Army dress uniform, stepped down with a steady gait.
Despite the long journey, the Crown Prince looked in quite good spirits.
His gaze swept over the platform, pausing for a moment on the “patches” (repairs/damage) around, but his face didn’t show much emotion.
“Your Highness! Welcome to Vienna!”
Field Marshal Conrad immediately went up to meet him: “In this difficult time, your arrival holds extraordinary significance for us.”
“Your Excellency Field Marshal.”
Georg reached out and gave Conrad a firm handshake.
“Saxony and Austro-Hungary are fraternal nations. When trouble occurs in a brother’s home, as the Crown Prince of Saxony, I naturally had to come and see.”
After brief pleasantries, Georg didn’t waste much time on those high-ranking Austro-Hungarian officials.
His gaze swept past the crowd and landed precisely on Morin, who stood at the edge of the lineup.
Normally, according to rank, Morin shouldn’t have stood so far forward, but today, no one dared to raise any objections to him standing there.
Georg walked straight towards Morin, and the surrounding Austro-Hungarian officers consciously made way.
“Lord Friedrich…”
Georg stopped in front of Morin, looking him up and down. His eyes held no scrutiny of a superior, but rather the familiarity of an old friend.
“Your Highness.” Morin stood at attention and gave a standard military salute.
“Do you know? Before I left, Chief of Staff Knobelsdorff and I were still discussing what nickname to give you.”
Georg smiled and leaned in slightly closer: “Finally, I think the title ‘Mr. Miracle’ suits you best.”
Morin was momentarily taken aback, then said, “Your Highness flatters me. I only did what any Saxon officer would do in that situation.”
“Hahahaha, humility is a virtue, but excessive humility is pride~”
The two didn’t say much else, knowing clearly this wasn’t the place to talk.
After speaking, Georg turned back to face Conrad and the others, the smile on his face reverting to that standard, impeccable diplomatic mask.
“Alright, Your Excellency Field Marshal, let us not stand here… I would like to go to Hofburg Palace first to visit His Majesty Franz Joseph.”
After the brief welcoming ceremony ended, the group left the train station.
According to the plan, Georg needed to first visit the old Emperor at Hofburg Palace, whose mental state was reportedly a cause for concern. A motorcade was already waiting outside the station.
Out of security considerations, Conrad had originally arranged for the Austro-Hungarian Royal Guard to handle the escort.
But under the “strong suggestion” of the Saxon Ambassador to Vienna, the core escort duty was ultimately handed over to Morin’s instruction unit.
As the motorcade slowly started, the somewhat noisy streets were isolated outside the windows.
On the streets of Vienna outside, one could still see many heavily armed patrolling soldiers. Pedestrians looked hurried, obviously not having emerged from the shadow of the coup yet.
“The situation here is a bit worse than I imagined.”
When the windows were rolled up, isolating the clamor outside, Georg suddenly spoke.
However, this time, he used fluent Gallic.
Morin instantly understood.
In this era, Gallic was the lingua franca of Europa’s high society and the standard language for diplomatic occasions.
So for the two Saxon soldiers from ordinary families in the front seats, this was indeed like encrypted communication.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Morin also switched to Gallic, which was the one he was most familiar with among the multiple languages he mastered.
“Although superficial order has been restored, the panic in people’s hearts is not so easily quelled, especially regarding the old Emperor’s condition… rumors are flying everywhere.”
“So it’s really as the telegram I received described… mad?” Georg asked with some disbelief.
“Yes, Your Highness.” Morin nodded. “I was there. That state didn’t seem faked.”
Georg nodded, then as if recalling something, asked, “By the way, why didn’t I see Karl I in the welcoming lineup?”
This was a somewhat sensitive political… or rather, diplomatic question.
According to the principle of reciprocity in diplomatic etiquette, when the Saxon Crown Prince visits, the Austro-Hungarian Crown Prince should appear to welcome him no matter what.
Unless he was bedridden with illness, or…
“Crown Prince Karl is currently ‘being protected’ in his residence.”
Morin weighed his words carefully, then answered based on the information he had gathered so far: “Those captured coup leaders spilled a lot of things to save their lives… among which included records of several secret contacts with Crown Prince Karl.”
“Although there is no direct evidence showing Crown Prince Karl participated in the planning, he indeed had correspondence with those radicals, and even expressed sympathy for ‘federalist’ reforms on some occasions.”
Speaking of this, Morin paused, his tone becoming somewhat subtle: “In the eyes of Field Marshal Conrad and those hardline generals, this kind of behavior during wartime… is no different from treason.”
“Naive.”
Georg snorted coldly, giving the same evaluation as Albert II.
“In this jungle where the weak are meat for the strong, pinning hopes on the mercy of the enemy and the conscience of domestic separatists is simply courting death.”
A brief silence fell in the car. Georg watched the fleeting street scenes outside the window, fingers tapping lightly on his knee, lost in thought.
A while later, as the motorcade turned a corner, the magnificent Hofburg Palace came into view.
Despite the emergency cleanup over these past few days, the dense bullet holes on the palace’s exterior walls and the stone pillars blackened by artillery fire were still shocking to see.
At this moment, this palace that once symbolized glory and power actually appeared somewhat desolate in the afterglow of the setting sun, like a sun nearing the western hills.
Georg looked at the scene outside the window and sighed softly: “It seems your battle back then was indeed very fierce.”
“Yes, Your Highness. We were indeed at an absolute numerical disadvantage at the time,” Morin answered.
“But your advantage in quality wasn’t that affected by the numerical disadvantage.”
“This is thanks to your support for the instruction unit!”
“Speak plainly, Lord Friedrich…”
“Your Highness, based on this battle, I have some new ideas regarding the construction of the instruction unit~”
Eventually, the motorcade stopped in front of the palace’s main gates.
Field Marshal Conrad had gotten out early and was waiting at the bottom of the steps.
Georg put on a sorrowful expression and got out of the car. Accompanied by Conrad, he walked through the long corridors and arrived outside the Emperor’s bedchambers.
The palace steward, who had been waiting there, came up to greet them.
This old butler had heavy bags under his eyes, clearly having suffered quite a bit these past two days.
“Your Highness… His Majesty is in the bedchambers.” The old butler’s voice was hoarse, hesitating to speak. “It’s just that His Majesty’s condition… please be mentally prepared.”
Georg nodded, solemnly adjusted his uniform, and strode inside.
Morin, Conrad, and several high-ranking Austro-Hungarian generals followed closely behind.
The closer they got to the Emperor’s bedchambers, the heavier the oppressive atmosphere became.
The servants in the corridor all kept their heads down, not daring to make a sound when walking, as if some man-eating monster lurked here.
Before they even reached the door, a shrill scream pierced the heavy oak doors and drilled into everyone’s ears.
“Get out! All of you get out! What are you holding? Poison? That’s poison!”
Followed by the sound of shattering porcelain and the dull thud of a heavy object hitting the floor.
Field Marshal Conrad’s face instantly turned as ugly as if he had eaten a fly.
He subconsciously glanced at Georg beside him and found that the Saxon Crown Prince merely frowned slightly, not showing much surprise.
“This…” Conrad wanted to explain something, but realized any explanation would seem pale and powerless at this moment.
“It’s alright, Field Marshal.” Georg raised a hand to stop him. “Let me go in and see… After all, I am a junior to him.”
An attendant pushed the doors open, and Georg, along with Franz Joseph I’s Lord Chamberlain, walked in. The doors then closed tightly again.
Morin, Conrad, and the others were left in the corridor.
The former simply leaned against the wall, seemingly resting with his eyes closed, but in reality, his ears were perked up high.
His hearing, modified by the potion, allowed him to faintly hear the commotion inside even through the heavy doors.
“…Georg? Is it you? Is it really you?”
The old Emperor’s voice gradually shifted from its initial terror into an almost breaking sob.
“Thank God… finally one of our own has come…”
“…They all want to kill me! That bastard Conrad! They all want to harm me!”
Listening to these intermittent delirious ramblings, Morin shook his head silently in his heart.
This old Emperor really seemed to have been frightened out of his wits. That persecution paranoia had seeped deep into his bones.
But from another perspective, this could be considered good news for the Saxon Empire.
About twenty minutes later, the bedchamber doors opened again, and Georg walked out.
His expression was sorrowful, and the rims of his eyes were even slightly red.
Morin didn’t know if the other party was showing true emotion or acting, but it had to be said, the acting skills of royal family members were all Oscar-worthy.
“How is it, Your Highness?” Conrad hurried forward and asked eagerly.
Georg let out a long sigh and shook his head: “His Majesty is too tired, under immense mental pressure… I comforted him for quite a while before he finally just fell asleep.”
Saying this, he fixed his gaze on Conrad, his tone becoming stern: “Field Marshal Conrad, His Majesty’s health is the cornerstone of the Empire. I hope you can strengthen security and not let any… stimulating incidents happen again.”
“Yes, yes… of course.” Conrad nodded repeatedly, cold sweat seeping from his forehead.
“That’s good.” Georg nodded, seemingly not wanting to stay in this oppressive place a second longer. “I am somewhat tired…”
“We have prepared a welcoming banquet for you at the Hotel Sacher…”
“I think I must decline.”
Georg smiled apologetically, then continued: “Seeing His Majesty like this, I truly have no mood to attend a banquet~ Besides, I also bear a personal request from my father on this visit.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, finally landing on Conrad.
“I am going to visit my aunt, Archduchess Maria Josepha… I think after experiencing such terrifying events, she must really need the company of family.”
Regarding Crown Prince Georg’s request to visit his aunt, Conrad naturally agreed a hundred times over.
After all, this was a legitimate relative relationship, a “family matter.”
Moreover, given the old Emperor’s current deranged state, it was indeed inappropriate to host any grand banquets.
Thus, the originally massive motorcade split. Conrad left with most of the Austro-Hungarian officials, leaving only a convoy responsible for clearing the way.
Georg sat back in the car. This time, his expression was much more relaxed than before.
“Let’s go, Lord Friedrich, we’re going to Augarten Palace.”
Morin nodded. Just as he told the driver to head in the direction of this palace, he heard Crown Prince Georg continue: “Lord Friedrich, you’ll come inside with me later.”
Hearing this, Morin was somewhat surprised: “Eh? Your Highness, I am an outsider…”
“No, no, no, no, you are no simple outsider now.”
Georg interrupted him, his tone meaningful.
“You are the hero who saved the Habsburgs, and my most trusted officer. Furthermore… there are some things that will be more convenient with you present.”
Since the Crown Prince put it that way, Morin naturally couldn’t continue to refuse.
The motorcade traversed the Vienna urban area, heading towards Augarten Palace located in the north of the city.
That was the residence of the late Archduke Otto, and now the residence of Archduchess Maria Josepha.
Unlike the dead and gloomy Hofburg Palace, the Archduchess’s residence, although quiet, exuded an aura of orderliness.
The gardens were trimmed neatly, and even the guards at the gate appeared more spirited.
As soon as the car stopped, a middle-aged man who looked like a butler walked briskly down and respectfully opened the car door.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince, the Archduchess is already waiting in the drawing room.”
Georg nodded, leading Morin into this slightly deserted palace.
The interior of Archduchess Maria Josepha’s residence was more filled with a rich Saxon flavor than an Austrian style.
From the Meissen porcelain decorative plates hanging on the walls to the Dresden-style grandfather clock in the corner, everything proclaimed the hostess’s origins and her attachment to her homeland.
When Morin followed Georg into the hall, he even had the illusion of having returned to some noble estate in Saxony.
In the hall, a middle-aged noblewoman wearing a black velvet gown was standing in front of the fireplace.
Time had left some traces at the corners of her eyes, but it hadn’t completely taken away her beauty; rather, it had bestowed upon her a calm and noble temperament.
She was Princess Maria Josepha of Saxony, now Archduchess of the Austro-Hungarian Empire.
“Georg!”
Seeing her nephew walk in, a glimmer of excited tears flashed in Archduchess Maria’s eyes.
She walked up quickly and gently gave Crown Prince Georg a hug.
“Aunt, you’ve been frightened,” Georg gently patted her back, comforting her softly.
“I am fine, it’s just… these past few days have been truly terrifying.”
Archduchess Maria released Georg, wiped the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief, and then her gaze fell on Morin standing behind Georg.
“And this is…”
“You must have heard his name, Aunt. This is Colonel Morin…” Georg stepped aside and introduced. “He is the one who led the instruction unit to suppress the coup in Vienna.”
Archduchess Maria’s eyes instantly lit up. She looked Morin up and down, her eyes full of gratitude and admiration.
“So you are the Saxon officer they’ve been publicizing these days… God bless. If it weren’t for you, Colonel, happening to be in Vienna, I truly dare not imagine what would have happened.”
She extended a hand. Seeing this, Morin, who was already accustomed to the etiquette of this world, hastily stepped forward, gently held that white-gloved hand, performed a standard hand-kissing bow, and then began to speak the appropriate words for the occasion.
“It was my honor, Your Royal Highness the Archduchess.”
After brief pleasantries, Georg’s expression became serious.
“Aunt… besides visiting you this time, I also brought some words from my father.” He glanced around; the meaning was clear.
Archduchess Maria immediately understood. She nodded: “Let us talk in the study.”
Saying this, she turned and instructed the butler: “Entertain Colonel Morin well, make sure not to slight him.”
Georg also gave Morin a look, signaling him to wait outside for a moment, and then went upstairs toward the study with Archduchess Maria.
Morin was led by the butler to sit on a sofa in the side hall.
Although Georg didn’t say it explicitly, Morin could roughly guess what they were going to talk about.
It was highly likely regarding the situation of the Austro-Hungarian Crown Prince Karl I, and how the Saxon Empire planned to intervene in the issue of Austro-Hungarian imperial succession.
And this kind of top-level political dealing was indeed not something a colonel like him should hear, nor did Morin want to hear it at all.
But this didn’t mean he could relax outside…
Just as Morin picked up his teacup and was about to taste the black tea of the Archduchess’s residence, light footsteps came from the doorway of the side hall.
Morin set down his teacup and turned to look.
A youth of about seventeen or eighteen was standing at the door, observing him with some curiosity.
The youth wore well-tailored civilian clothes. Although not skinny, his face carried a lingering childishness.
His features bore some resemblance to Archduchess Maria from earlier, but his eyes appeared somewhat timid and evasive.
The old butler nearby immediately bowed deeply: “Your Royal Highness Archduke Maximilian.”
Morin’s heart stirred, instantly realizing the other party’s identity.
Maximilian Eugen…
The second son of Archduchess Maria, the younger brother of Karl I.
If something went wrong with Karl I, then this person before him would be the Crown Prince of the Austro-Hungarian Empire…