Viscount Stratford felt utterly stifled. Every time he came to Vienna, something unpleasant seemed to happen, yet he had no choice but to come—and even had to say things against his heart to praise this city he so detested.
But no one else could understand Viscount Stratford's feelings. They only knew that the man before them had practically brought death upon himself; after all, words like those could already be considered a diplomatic incident.
Even if the Austrian Empire chose not to pursue the matter, his political career was as good as ruined.
But no one cared about a fellow with no future. Every event in high society was a social occasion; everyone had to show themselves off as much as possible, winning others' favor or shaping their own image.
In truth, what Viscount Stratford had said would have been nothing at all in the past. It might even have been interpreted as frankness.
But times had changed. Britain had once been an existence beyond everyone's reach, but now that its cloak of invincibility and lofty civilization had fallen away, few still held it in awe.
The Austrian Empire, on the other hand, was growing stronger and harder to ignore by the day.
A peaceful transition during the changing of the old and new was possible, but it was hardly likely that no one would fawn on the powerful and trample the fallen.
What was more, the Holy Roman Empire had been established, and many small states had already been incorporated into it. Naturally, they would choose to stand with Austria.
If they still swayed from side to side as they had in the past, then they truly failed to grasp the situation.
Still, not everyone was politically sensitive. After surrendering the power in their hands, some royal families had