Vienna in January lay steeped in the bitter wind. Snow drifted lightly from the sky, falling like threads of rain. A gust swept through, scattering it like fine salt flung into the air; it danced across the heavens, dressing the entire Vienna Court in a fairy-tale world of ice and snow.
Franz had already given up his good habit of winter swimming. In this icy world, he simply could not bring himself to enter the water. If he fell ill, he had no faith in the medicine of this era.
The artificial lake had frozen over with a thick sheet of ice, and several of his younger brothers were still playing on it.
Fell in? No problem. They could treat it as an ice-water bath, climb out, change clothes, and carry on.
Being pampered was not an option. The brothers had undergone militarized training since childhood, and their ability to wage war on paper was certainly not lacking. Otherwise, Franz would not have confidently gone off to command an army in history.
Snowflakes swirled as Franz stood in the pavilion, gazing into the distance. The water in the teapot beside him had already begun to boil.
Brewing tea—somehow, it had become a habit Franz had developed. Yes, merely brewing it. He liked the fragrance released by the tea.
How much tea was wasted every day because of it was not Franz's concern. There were so many people eager to flatter him; if he did not consume a little more, where would they find their opportunities?
Coffee remained the main beverage at the Vienna Court. Tea was merely an occasional change of pace, mostly black tea. Add sugar and milk, and it became what was known as—milk tea.
"Your Majesty, the Archbishop of Kentenia requests an audience." The maid's crisp voice