Eric Flint - 1636 - The Viennese Waltz

“Oh, yes,” Mike agreed. “‘Let others wage wars. You, fortunate Austria, wage marriage.’”

“Close enough,” the emperor of Austria-Hungary agreed. He gestured toward a nearby door that Mike assumed led to a room where privacy was to be found. “Would you accompany us?”

“Of course.”

* * *

Sarah carried a traditional bouquet and was preparing for the traditional bouquet toss.

Judy did her best to stay well away from the toss, Millicent at her side.

The bouquet contained myrtle leaves, for good luck. Brides were traditionally considered lucky and some variation of the bouquet toss had been in custom for many years. At this point, the last thing Judy wanted was to catch a bouquet. Weddings seemed to be catching or something. Everywhere she turned, some young man was staring at her with puppydog eyes, practically begging for her attention.

“I’m looking forward to getting back to Magdeburg,” Millicent muttered.

“Same here,” Judy whispered. “Let’s get farther back. The last thing I want is these boys getting ideas. I’m getting enough proposals, without them thinking I’m next.”

They didn’t make it quite far enough away. Almost as soon as Judy and Millicent turned back to watch, Sarah launched her bouquet.

“Ah. . drat.”

Millicent sighed. “Can’t let it hit the floor, can you? It’s a rule. You know. Like the flag.”

Judy stared over the bouquet she’d had to catch. At the group of more-than-willing boys. “You wish,” she muttered at them, just as a bloody Archduke Leopold staggered onto the dance floor, accompanied by Amadeus and Herr Doctor Faust.

Epilogue

It took a short time for Emperor Ferdinand to realize that his little brother wasn’t just drunk and that Leopold was wounded.

After that, things got organized quickly. Troops were sent to collect Father Lamormaini. A scourge of the Spanish faction of the Austro-Hungarian court would follow over the next few weeks. But from that moment the support of the Austrian court-and that of the Netherlands-for Pope Urban was set in stone.

It wasn’t nearly so well documented that Gundaker had been involved. Yes, he had rented the storeroom, but he could have done it at the request of Lamormaini without knowing for what use was intended. At least, that was Karl’s less-than-convincing argument.

Maximilian von Liechtenstein was not happy. He and his wife had both been at the wedding. If the bomb had gone off, he would have been blown up with everyone else.

Troops were sent to Liechtenstein House, where they failed to find Prince Gundaker. They did find a set of books that, on close examination, suggested that Gundaker had gotten away with a lot of silver and more than a little gold.

“The only direction I think we can be sure he doesn’t run,” said Maximilian, “is toward his wife’s lands.”

A more serious question was was who else was involved. Hartmann von Liechtenstein, Gundaker’s son, was out of town on business for his father, but they didn’t know whether he was involved. It wouldn’t have been hard for Gundaker to send him off without telling him the reason. Gundaker’s daughters were in attendance, both of them with their husbands, which pretty much cleared them of any involvement.

But how many of the staff at Liechtenstein house were involved was an open question. Not everyone had been at the wedding.

* * *

Mike Stearns returned to Bohemia two days after the wedding. He needed to get back anyway, since the moment for his intervention in the siege of Dresden was approaching. But he wouldn’t have stayed much longer in any event.

Some diplomatic negotiations require weeks and months. Others are tentative affairs, more in the way of opening channels and establishing possibilities than coming to any decisions-or even advancing any definite proposals. But he was quite satisfied with the outcome. The friendly neutrality-reasonably friendly, anyway-of the Netherlands was further solidified, and the Austrian attitude had clearly been shifted in that direction.

The impact of the Barbies on Austria’s finances and social attitudes had been considerable, more so than he would have imagined ahead of time. Granted, Mike had reservations about the Austrian way of fitting Americans-some Americans, at least-into their aristocratic view of the world. Von Up-time, indeed! Fricking ridiculous.

But it was better than fighting another war. Besides, given some time, that ridiculous notion would probably prove to be just another lever for prying the seventeenth century toward civilized attitudes. Mike had never suffered from the notion that progress was simple and invariably straightforward.

* * *

Meanwhile, life went on. Archduke Leopold was the hero of the hour, his reputation rescued. He didn’t, however, attempt to kiss, touch, or otherwise approach Her Serene Highness Judith Elaine Wendell von Up-time. There were, after all, other girls. Most of them not nearly so quick with a knee.