Chapter 19: Investment

Vienna, the Imperial Gardens.

A gentle breeze blew, carrying the fresh scent of earth.

In a nearby grove, Franz Joseph was swinging on a swing.

On the neatly manicured garden lawn, Archduke Franz Karl was drinking heavily beside a makeshift round table.

"Wine again," Archduke Franz Karl thought to himself.

It was a certainty; Franz II had acquired three thousand barrels of wine from the Eltahazi family cellar and knew his son had a penchant for fine spirits. Consequently, Archduke Franz Karl seemed inseparable from these wines.

Baron Brooke walked cautiously across the garden lawn, carrying a briefcase, terrified of stepping on the flowers and ruining the garden's overall aesthetic.

Baron Brooke removed his hat and bowed.

"Archduke Franz Karl, you summoned me."

Archduke Franz Karl glanced at Baron Brooke.

"Sit. Sit down."

Baron Brooke had actually scheduled meetings with several bankers that afternoon to discuss loans, but he could not ignore the Archduke's invitation. If this somewhat dim-witted Archduke insisted on keeping him there, he would be in trouble.

"Sit down!" Archduke Franz Karl repeated, emphasizing his tone when he saw the Baron had not sat.

Baron Brooke had no choice but to sit; after all, the man was royalty.

"Drink," Archduke Franz Karl said, handing Baron Brooke a glass filled with wine.

Baron Brooke looked at the Archduke and then drained the glass in one gulp.

"I... I have an in... investment!"

Archduke Franz Karl rarely used such words, so speaking them was exceptionally difficult.

"An investment?" Baron Brooke felt a bit dizzy. He had only just learned that this supposedly dim-witted Archduke actually understood the concept of investment. He immediately wondered if he was being scammed. Then, he thought that might not be the case.

So, he asked, "Your Highness, what kind of investment is it? Let me examine it for you."

"No, no need..." As he spoke, Archduke Franz Karl pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket, slapped it onto the table, and slid it across.

Baron Brooke took a monocle from his coat pocket, placed it in his eye socket, and scrutinized the slip of paper.

It read

"I have three million florins. Go and purchase land in Chicago and New York. Buy whatever you want, as long as you sell it before Christmas 1836."

A simple contract was attached at the end.

The handwriting was very scrawled and somewhat childish, looking as if it had been written by a child. However, Baron Brooke did not suspect anything; after all, for an Archduke who could barely speak clearly, being able to write at all was quite an achievement.

"The real estate market in America is indeed good, and I have acquaintances operating in real estate there. However, Archduke Franz Karl, I must warn you: America is a wilderness, and the credit of those savages is highly questionable. The land is rising so rapidly that there will inevitably be trouble one day."

At the time, Europeans viewed Americans as savages, and the mainstream European bankers believed that the rapid rise in American land prices would lead to problems. However, since everyone believed in a free economy, no one stepped in to stop it.

"I don't care. My son wants to buy..." Archduke Franz Karl said while sipping his wine.

"..." Baron Brooke was speechless. The young Archduke was only four years old, a very lovely child who was currently swinging nearby.

"It seems Archduke Franz Karl is truly drunk," Baron Brooke thought to himself, while asking aloud, "Is it you who wishes to buy, or the young Archduke? How should I fill out this contract?"

Realizing his mistake, Archduke Franz Karl corrected himself: "I am buying it for my son."

Baron Brooke breathed a sigh of relief. That made sense; it was logical.

Baron Brooke worked busily on the contract, tucked a copy into his briefcase, and handed the original to Archduke Franz Karl.

At that moment, Talia stepped forward, took the contract, and inspected it carefully. After confirming that Baron Brooke had not tampered with anything, she placed the contract into a box she had prepared in advance.

Checking a contract was perfectly normal; if anything, Baron Brooke was impressed by the supposedly dim-witted Archduke. After all, only insiders knew about the land speculation in America. For the Archduke to recognize this trend and make such a massive move showed remarkable vision and courage.

"Your Highness, please rest assured. With me, Baron Brooke, you will certainly acquire the highest quality land. If you have no further instructions, I have an important meeting this afternoon regarding national finances. As you know, since we joined the German Customs Union, money is being spent everywhere."

Archduke Franz Karl gestured for Brooke to sit and poured him another glass of wine.

"Drink. Drink, then leave."

Baron Brooke rarely drank, especially during working hours, but he could not refuse the Archduke's kindness. He eventually drained the glass.

Archduke Franz Karl watched Baron Brooke depart, offering a silent critique of his temporary drinking companion.

"A good fellow, truly, but he pushes himself too hard."

By now, Franz Joseph had jumped off the swing, holding the contract in his hands with great excitement.

Franz knew that this three-million-florin investment would increase sixty-fourfold within the next three years. This money would be a massive boost for his future, and even better, it would allow him to fleece the Americans.

But what made him happiest was that Baron Brooke was, as he had hoped, a truly honest and reliable man. Even when faced with the massive temptation of three million florins, he had not tampered with the contract.

"Son, I think you are not normal," Archduke Franz Karl spoke first.

"Father, I am very normal. It is you who is not normal, which is why you think everyone else is abnormal," Franz replied.

Archduke Franz Karl scratched his bald head, feeling that his son's words seemed quite reasonable.

"Don't think too much. Let's drink. I toast to you," Franz Joseph said, raising his juice.

"Fine, I won't think about it. To—" Archduke Franz Karl seemed to want to say something, but couldn't find the words.

Franz Joseph finished the sentence: "—to drowning one's sorrows."

"Exactly!"

The two glasses clinked. There were no grand words, but it was better than a thousand words.

Talia was the witness to it all, but she did not know what to say; even if she did, no one would believe her.

At that time, she had been cast out by her family and came to Vienna alone. Talia had dressed as a man to prove she was no less capable than any man, distinguishing herself in the clerk examinations for the Prime Minister's office, only to impulsively shed her male attire.

She had expected to stun the audience, but instead, she drew the fury of the men present. The officials and candidates, feeling insulted, prepared to hang her from a tree. Fortunately, Madame Sophie passed by and had the Imperial Guards rescue her.

Since then, she had become Franz's governess. The young Archduke and the Archduchess were her benefactors, and within this imperial palace, they were her only support.

Talia knew that if she betrayed the young Archduke and the Archduchess, she would lose everything—which was also what Madame Sophie intended.

However, she had not expected the young Archduke to be so extraordinary. Perhaps that was simply the nature of an Emperor.

(End of Chapter)