The War Court and Lap Pillow, Austria's Mandate of Heaven

Chapter 1898 Hostility
Even with Britain watching closely, Franz felt that war was inevitable, since the British could not directly threaten the American South.

As for compromise? Franz thought it was unlikely. The American Party, which he had built from scratch, was rapidly disintegrating, and he knew that this civil war was inevitable.

The American Party, controlled by the Austrian Empire, could not possibly oppose Austria. Its propositions were anti-colonialism, anti-infiltration, bridging domestic conflicts, and comprehensive confrontation with Britain.

The largest party during the war collapsed after the war, while the Republican Party was rapidly rising during the same period.

As night fell, Fanny von Arnstein, the beautiful economist from the Austrian Empire, struggled to climb to Franz's side.

As a royal advisor, her once meticulously styled hair was now disheveled, with sweat sticking a few stray strands to her forehead. She asked, panting heavily.

"You seem to have an unspeakable malice towards the United States."

Franz rubbed his forehead, but seeing her disheveled appearance, he still spoke.

“You’re very sensitive, but do you expect me to show kindness to my enemies?”

Miss Arnstein clearly couldn't understand Franz's statement.

"Aren't Austria and the United States allies? You've helped them so many times, and they always listen to you."
Even at the very least, it's mutual benefit; why would we be enemies?

"An enemy is an enemy; that's an unchangeable fact. From its inception, the United States was destined to be an enemy of the Austrian Empire."

Miss Arnstein was not stupid; she knew what Franz was talking about, but still felt like showing off, so she began to draw circles on Franz's chest with her slender fingers.

"So the downfall of the Second French Republic was also your doing?"
Neither Lamartine, Dan Gila, nor Bilford and Kafenjak knew how they met their demise.

What a bunch of idiots!

Franz tidied Miss Arnstein's forehead with his hair and said.

"It's not necessarily a good thing for a woman to be too smart."

Franz lifted her chin.

"So who is it, and how much did they offer to make you work so hard?"

Miss Arnstein pouted and said in a coquettish manner.

"You are too cruel. People are right, you are really too tyrannical."

No wonder your lover doesn't like to show off.

Franz suddenly lifted her up, her feet off the ground, which startled Miss Arnstein and made her heart pound.

"You want to dodge the question and change the subject? It seems you won't learn your lesson until you hit a brick wall."

Franz looked at the beautiful, doll-like figure in his hands and couldn't help but reveal a meaningful smile.

Soon after, the sound of something hitting the wall disturbed the maids in the cubicle, making them toss and turn.
The next day, the latest battle report from the western Indian Ocean arrived, stating that the Austrian Empire's expeditionary force had achieved a great victory.

Suveni, the sixth son of Sayyid who launched the rebellion, was killed by a mutiny of the garrison in Muscat in less than a week.

Suveni's entire family was also killed; the rebels didn't even spare the newborn baby.

Of course, Suveni didn't do good either; he killed more than a dozen of his brothers and sisters, as well as all the men in his family.

Suveni dared to confront the Austrian Empire's expeditionary force head-on mainly because of the promises made by the British.

However, the Omani army and the mercenaries brought by Suveni suffered losses of more than a third after a brief encounter with the expeditionary force led by Friedrich.

Furthermore, with British reinforcements failing to arrive, Suveni's men mutinied.

In fact, the British reinforcements were in Aden, but what could a British army of less than three thousand men do against an Austrian expeditionary force of tens of thousands?
The British commander even halted the patrol to avoid causing any misunderstanding with the Austrians.

The Somali tribal alliance soon handed over Said's sons, who were hiding in their territory, but they died of illness before returning to Muscat.

At this point, Majid, who was in Zanzibar, was the only male heir left in Said.

However, Majid plotted to harm his sister and nephew, and after a servant died from poisoning, Friedrich had no choice but to retaliate.

In the chaos of battle, Majid was struck by a stray bullet. On his deathbed, he set his palace on fire, taking his entire family with him to meet God.

At least that's what Princess Seneca wrote in her letter.
Princess Seneca and Grand Duke John, son of Frederick, became the sole legitimate heir to the Omani Empire.

Within the Omani Empire, tribes, including those in Somalia, have sworn allegiance.

In fact, such a thing would not have happened under normal circumstances, but Princess Sneka successfully used the power of the Austrian Empire to make those families wary and have no choice but to submit.

The Austrian Empire maintained a strong influence in the western Indian Ocean region over the years, especially in relation to the Omani Empire.

From the very first contact between the two sides, a large number of surrender factions emerged within the Omani Empire, because in their view, the Austrian Empire was simply invincible.

That naval battle utterly destroyed the pride and even the self-esteem of the Omanis.

As contact between the two sides increased, this impression was further deepened, and their overwhelming victory in the Omani civil war made them feel even more desperate.

When Princess Sneka invoked the banner of the Austrian Empire, those families were already trembling with fear.

In addition, the civil war in the Omani Empire had indeed caused too much bloodshed, leaving the entire country in fear and suffering, and they did not want to continue fighting.

However, what truly made them kneel down was the ruthlessness and decisiveness of this woman, Sneka. The leaders of those families were certain that if they dared to refuse, they would surely suffer a terrible death.

There will certainly be resistance from the lower classes, but don't expect them to be of much use.

Not to mention that there is no precedent for a successful rebellion at the grassroots level of the Omani Empire, their own fighting strength is also very worrying.

Moreover, those powerful families control more than 95% of the country's resources. They not only control the economy and food, but also the most important water source.

Even if the lower classes of the Omani Empire wanted to rebel, they had to survive first, because the power of the lower classes was really limited in that era.

They can barely survive for a few days without food, but to think they can wage guerrilla warfare in the desert without water? That's just wishful thinking, unless their faith can conjure up water for them.

Even if Sneka made a mistake, it would be a trivial matter for the Austrian Empire, since Oman, as an ally, had already lost much of its value.

The East African colonies now have enough strength to confront the entire Omani Empire, and even annexing them would not be difficult.

Even if a saint were to appear in the Omani Empire, and the Suez Canal were to open in a few years, Franz did not believe that any deity could stop it.

Not only was Franz uninterested in the expedition, but Friedrich also quickly grew tired of the court intrigues.

Princess Seneca and her son John seemed to have a great time in Zanzibar and didn't want to leave.

Both men were marginal figures within the Habsburg family; the power and money they held, as well as Franz's attitude towards them, did not allow them to act with impunity.

Princess Seneca, in particular, felt that the Austrian Empire was restricting her, and her son was naturally affected by it as well.

Moreover, power can be addictive; with enough power, one can do anything, no matter how crazy.

Fortunately, Friedrich had his own comfort zone and did not join in this dirty revelry.

Schönbrunn Palace, Vienna.

How was the trip?

"It's terrible. It's like having a serious illness—a cold, fever, runny nose, vomiting and diarrhea—basically, it's very uncomfortable. What's the point of killing people all day, watching them kneel on the ground trembling?"

Archduke Frederick kept complaining, and indeed, as he said, he looked like he had been seriously ill and had lost a lot of weight.

"Uncle Friedrich, you don't need to worry too much. Grand Duchess Sneka is more familiar with that environment; perhaps that's where she truly shines."

Moreover, as long as the empire stands, no matter what they do, it won't cause any major problems.

Franz's demeanor seemed not to have changed much since he first met Friedrich; perhaps this is what is meant by being mature beyond his years.

Friedrich thought to himself and couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh.

"Shouldn't we take this opportunity to do something? The British seem terrified; now is the best time to expand."

When we encountered the British Navy in the Gulf of Aden, they practically wanted to move all their ships onto land.

Franz shook his head somewhat helplessly.

"Uncle Friedrich, stop trying to persuade me."

Colonial expansion is not simply about occupation. If subsequent development fails to keep up, it's all for naught. And if development is not maintained or local powers become too strong, it's just doing the work for someone else.

The areas we occupy now may not be fully digested even after several decades, and as long as we can hold onto our existing territory, we will be invincible.

The most important thing is to compete for global hegemony; we don't have enough capital yet.

Franz's words surprised Friedrich.

"Not enough? Isn't our fleet powerful enough? The British are no match for us. Is there any navy stronger than the Royal Navy besides ours?"

Franz shook his head.

"No. But our navy is not dispersed enough around the world."

Friedrich laughed and said.

"That's easy. In a few more years, our navy can continue to expand."

Friedrich was interrupted by Franz before he could finish speaking, which was quite unusual for him.

"While we were building ships, Britain, France, Russia, and even the United States were also building ships."

Austria, on the other hand, is a typical land power, its foundation lying in its army. We cannot continue this arms race indefinitely.

Franz's statement deeply hurt Friedrich. As the Minister of the Navy and one of Franz's earliest supporters, Friedrich instantly felt abandoned.

"Sigh, what else can our navy do?"

"To protect our homeland and safeguard our maritime interests. Moreover, if quantitative changes lead to qualitative changes, we might even be able to dominate the oceans in the future."

"Don't try to comfort me, I'm not buying it."

Although he said that, Friedrich's expression was noticeably better, and he seemed to have suddenly remembered something.

"By the way, I met some captains in Bagamoyo. They said they were helping to transport a group of people."

Aren't you afraid that those Indians will take over our colonies if you do this?

Franz smiled.

"Don't worry. They're just staying here temporarily."

"Don't go too far, or you won't be able to get rid of them. There are just too many Indians in East Africa."

Friedrich reminded him again.

Franz certainly had his plans.
Several months ago, in India.

With the end of the North American war, the British forces in India were growing stronger, and Akbar Khan once again abandoned his Sikh allies and fled back to Afghanistan.

The situation on the entire Indian battlefield took a sharp turn for the worse. Although Lakshmi Pai had made many preparations according to Franz's instructions and received a lot of support from Austria, the Indian rebels were wary of each other and infighting, which consumed too much of their strength.

Even though the Kingdom of Jhansi had won several brilliant battles, Lakshmi Pai already felt that the end was near and defeat seemed imminent.

The setting sun was like blood. As the last barrier of Jhansi City, the Kebetwa River flowed silently, with only blood and corpses floating downstream.

Lakshmi Pai's warhorse was still twitching its nostrils, as if it had not yet recovered from the battle.

She gently patted the horse's cheek, and despite the cracked skin on Lakshmi Pai's hands and her trembling fingers, she tried her best to calm herself and the horse down.

Looking out, the shore was littered with the dead and wounded; the bodies of Jhansi soldiers and British vassal troops were piled on top of each other, some even tightly intertwined and difficult to separate.

The land on the shore was also ravaged beyond recognition, with shell craters, traps, hoofprints, and makeshift trenches, looking like scars on the earth from a distance.

The wounded soldiers wept and wailed, but even more heart-wrenching were the lamentations of those who had lost loved ones.

The people of Jhansi have lost so much in order to win this war, and she is really tired and wants to rest for a while.

But as the Queen of Jhansi, she cannot afford to be tired, much less show her vulnerable side.

Her hands stopped trembling, and she raised her scimitar, now riddled with nicks, high into the air, shouting.

"We will defend our homeland!"

"Long live!"

The soldiers and civilians genuinely supported this brave leader, who always charged alongside the cavalry, fighting on the front lines.

Coupled with her outstanding appearance and equally outstanding martial arts skills, she truly resembled a goddess descended to earth.

At this moment, a wounded soldier with half of his body covered in blood and gore passed by Lakshmi Pai, muttering to himself.

"Queen"

Lakshmi Pai saw a young man whose arm and part of his internal organs had been severed by a shell, and whose thumb had been cut off from an old wound.

Here, only one type of person would have their thumb cut off: the weavers. To prevent them from competing with British cotton, the British not only destroyed the looms but also cut off the thumbs of the weavers.

Therefore, their posture when shooting guns is very strange, which often makes people laugh.

However, these Indian weavers were also among the bravest people. They came from afar to fight the British, and almost none of them deserted. Many fought to the last moment of their lives.

Queen Jhansi dismounted from her horse and took the soldier's hand.

"Don't worry. You'll be fine. Get the medicinal wine!"

A servant quickly brought over a leather bag. The so-called medicinal wine was actually a mixture of poppy, datura, poisonous snake, and alcohol. Although it could not heal wounds, it was extremely effective in relieving pain.

Sure enough, an abnormal flush appeared on the soldier's face after he drank some.

"Your Majesty, the cotton in my hometown has blossomed. After the cotton is harvested, I will be able to weave new cloth. I want to weave you a large piece of cloth, using the finest dyes."
Will we win?