Karl von Ficquelmont was one of the few officials who had not threatened the Austrian Imperial Government with resignation. Franz had still wanted to show him some respect.
But some people simply didn't know how to appreciate what they had. Duke Ficquelmont was stunned, and a hint of anger even flashed in his eyes.
"If your memory is failing you, you can apply for retirement. I'll make sure you spend the rest of your life in comfort."
This time, Franz spoke harshly enough that every official present felt a pang of worry for Duke Ficquelmont. The emperor now was no longer "good man" Ferdinand I, but Franz, who had ascended the throne amid blood and fire.
Duke Ficquelmont was drenched in cold sweat. The reason he disliked Franz so much was that, back in 1848, many of his relatives and friends had lost their posts, their livelihoods, and even their lives over "trivial matters."
Duke Ficquelmont was no brave man. Otherwise, he would have been among those who had once used resignation to threaten the royal family.
A once-obscure nobody had, by a stroke of fate, ended up in a position he had no business holding. His inferiority complex drove him to prove himself somehow.
Prince Schwarzenberg came over and patted Duke Ficquelmont on the shoulder.
"Resign. This is the age of the young."
"I'll submit my resignation tomorrow."
Franz nodded, giving his silent approval.
Duke Ficquelmont lowered his head. He was deeply unwilling, but he knew this was the best choice available. An incompetent official who had angered the emperor would only invite disaster by clinging to his position.
"Recall our ambassador to Spain and suspend cooperation with the Spanish. We must avoid getting dragged into the Spanish Civil War.
Unless they pay up front or are willing to