On the banks of the Rhine River, in the territory of Strasbourg.
A ragtag army was slowly crossing the bridge to return to the Empire, flying all sorts of banners; the dazzling variety of heraldry was as diverse as the weapons and equipment they carried.
Fortunately, that exquisite eagle banner always guided the way.
At the bridgehead, the Duke of Württemberg's roar could be clearly heard as he maintained order in the ranks while urging the sluggish soldiers to hurry across the river.
They had recently returned in triumph from Nancy and soon received a new task from the Emperor: to head to Southern Franconia to suppress banditry.
When they first heard this news, many among the more than ten thousand Allied troops gathered in Nancy were dissatisfied with the Emperor's demands.
Especially those living west of the Rhine River, whose survival crisis had already been resolved and who had no interest in the riots occurring in other circles.
Subsequently, the Emperor's messenger announced the decision to dissolve the League of Constance; to rid themselves of the shackles of alliance obligations, many Imperial Estates along the Rhine River readily accepted this.
A regional defense alliance with the potential to rival the Swabian League thus collapsed, and its impact on the circle system would soon vanish.
Those Imperial Estates uninterested in the Emperor's proposal took their respective armies and returned home to their former comfortable lives, temporarily escaping the shadow cast by the Burgundians.
However, a group of princes led by the Duke of Württemberg and the Duke of Baden showed great interest in the plan to march into Franconia.
After some screening and streamlining, the Imperial Army stationed in Nancy was reduced to about five thousand and, led by King Christopher, set out on the eastward journey.
At the Emperor's request, many members of Swabia agreed to organize another smaller security force, commanded by the Count of Württemberg, the Duke of Württemberg's cousin, to join the Imperial Army returning from Lorraine.
The logistics and military expenses of the Imperial Army were apportioned to the two circles of Swabia and Austria.
In response to the Emperor's call, the Elector of Bavaria and the Bishop of Salzburg soon announced the organization of regional security forces in Bavaria to assist in the crusade against the Franconian Robber Knights.
In addition to this help from the Empire, the Emperor's Prague Legion had also recently set out for the territory of the Austrian Upper Palatinate, intending to pass directly through the territory of the Margrave of Ansbach to suppress the rebellion.
This move directly touched the sensitive nerves of some, such as Albert, the Elector of Brandenburg, who had recently rushed from Berlin to Ansbach to handle a dispute with Nuremberg.
Albert, who had lived in Ansbach for a long time, was completely weary of life ruling Brandenburg after years of toil.
He now understood how his elder brother had once felt; maintaining rule there was nothing short of torture.
After confirming a series of rights for the Brandenburg estates, Albert finally, in accordance with the Dispositio Achillea he had established, appointed his seventeen-year-old eldest son, Johann Cicero, as the Regent of Brandenburg and arranged ten counselors for him to handle all affairs within and outside the Electorate.
Before leaving Berlin, he personally presided over the wedding of his eldest daughter, Ursula, and Henry XI, Duke of Silesia-Glogau.
Having settled all his concerns, the Elector returned with his other children to the rich and stable Franconian territories passed down through generations of his family, intending to settle here until his death.
He visited the tombs of his two elder brothers in Kulmbach, venting his grievances to the empty graveyard before resuming his former strong posture to face the challenges ahead.
When he returned to Ansbach, he happened to meet Clement, the Austrian Foreign Minister and the representative sent by the Emperor to negotiate with him.
"Mr. Clement, I hear an Imperial legion from Bohemia is crossing the Upper Palatinate and may have reached the vicinity of Nuremberg by now, and next, it intends to pass through my territory?"
"Yes, Your Electoral Highness, I have come precisely for that."
"What does His Majesty the Emperor intend to do? Does he plan to use force to threaten me into giving up the defense of my rights?"
Albert's voice was loud and he was more irritable now than ever before, causing Clement to frown uncomfortably.
The Elector could not accept the Imperial Army flaunting its might before him; he did not want the Emperor to see him as weak as those princes who had submitted to him.
"The Imperial Army is merely passing through Ansbach; their goal is to head to Southern Franconia to wipe out the local robber knight groups.
Previously, His Majesty the Emperor ordered you to organize a regional security force to suppress the bandits, but you have failed to take effective action; His Majesty hopes you can provide a reasonable explanation."
After less than three polite sentences, Clement's words began to turn sharp.
He hadn't come this time to discuss things politely with the noble Elector, but to exert pressure and demand accountability.
As an Imperial Circle Governor, failing to maintain even basic order in the circle and instead indulging in land disputes with an Imperial Free City was nothing short of dereliction of duty.
The Elector snorted at Clement's questioning.
Not to mention that he still couldn't convene the Franconian Circle Diet; even if he could, he wouldn't prioritize trivial matters like the Robber Knights.
"The crimes of the Imperial Knights are not the most important matter right now; the reason the Empire has fallen into chaos is that the Emperor himself violated the statutes of the Imperial Diet in Augsburg.
We demand that the Emperor reconvene the Imperial Diet and reconfirm the rights and obligations of the various Imperial Estates; only then can the Empire return to peace."
"I must remind you of one thing: the order of the Empire has not been destroyed; it is just that some are deliberately inciting internal strife, and those ambitious schemers are enemies His Majesty the Emperor has sworn to eliminate."
Clement's words immediately made Albert's expression turn grim.
Indeed, as he said, after the events in Augsburg, the Emperor still organized an alliance spanning the three circles of Austria, Swabia, and the Upper Rhine and successfully forced the fierce Burgundians to yield.
When the Emperor personally issued an edict calling on the southern circles to contribute to the suppression of the Franconian bandits, the well-established circles of Swabia and Bavaria quickly responded.
South and west of Franconia, the Imperial system remained, and the Emperor's influence was still immense.
And on their side? The tax-resisting princes who had gathered hastily were nothing but a heap of loose sand internally, with some members even riddled with conflicts.
The only reason they gathered was to resist the increasingly excessive Imperial taxes and to demand control over the Empire's central government.
Whether it was the Imperial Chamber Court or the Imperial Privy Council, the Emperor held them tightly in his grasp to manage the affairs of the entire Empire, not only greatly reducing the influence of the Electors and princes but also intending to strengthen his influence and control over them in turn.
They launched a non-violent struggle to seize dominance in Imperial politics, but now the situation was slightly out of control and even beginning to develop in the worst direction.
Even if Elector Albert did not want to back down, the current situation was already extremely unfavorable for them as rebels.
If the Emperor's army dared to swagger through his territory today, he didn't even dare to imagine what the Emperor would do tomorrow.
"It seems you do not intend to offer much defense for your dereliction of duty, so please do not obstruct the Imperial Army from suppressing the chaos caused by the knights.
His Majesty will announce the consequences for you later; if you turn back now, there is still time."
Besides threatening, Clement began to entice the Elector of Brandenburg to change his stance.
Despite some internal wavering, the Elector still shook his head: "I can send troops to assist in wiping out the bandits in Franconia, but my stance will not change.
His Majesty the Emperor destroyed the authority of the Imperial Diet and caused the broad Imperial Estates to lose confidence; he hopes to rule the Empire with autocracy and oppression, which will not last long.
I hope you can convey my advice to His Majesty."
"You truly are obstinate," Clement sighed helplessly. "I will convey your words to His Majesty.
Furthermore, regarding the ownership of the Brauneck territory, the Emperor has personally made a ruling; that land will be handed over to the Nuremberg City Government to manage.
The Brauneck family are Imperial immediate vassals; the inheritance you claim has no legal basis, and the Emperor has rejected it in accordance with Imperial law."
This was undoubtedly a form of favoritism that ignored both sentiment and reason.
The relationship between the Nuremberg City Government and the Emperor was very good, and as one of the cities that paid the most taxes among the Imperial cities, it naturally received the Emperor's favor.
Only when both parties follow the Imperial order established by the Emperor does talking about justice make sense.
And when one side refuses to shoulder Imperial obligations, both the Emperor and other Imperial judges know how the case should be decided.
Previously, there had been some legal precedents where the courts heavily favored Imperial Estates that paid taxes, resulting in some Imperial Estates choosing to pay the public donation tax to protect their interests in disputes.
Since those cases were of minor consequence, they were not widely publicized.
But this time, the two parties in the dispute were the Empire's most prosperous Free City and one of the seven Electors; the Emperor did not give the Elector any face and still made a ruling in favor of the taxpayer.
It just so happened that at this time, the Imperial Army was near Nuremberg and would soon arrive at his Ansbach.
Even though he had anticipated this outcome, the Elector of Brandenburg still turned red with anger.
He watched the Emperor's special envoy leave with an angry gaze and later flew into a rage within the castle.
But it was all to no avail; he couldn't defeat Nuremberg and its allies before, and now he certainly couldn't defeat a Free City backed by the Emperor.
Even though his desire to expand his territory was not realized, the frustrated Elector still symbolically sent about a hundred soldiers to join the ranks of the Imperial Army to suppress the bandits as he had said.
Subsequently, reinforcements from Würzburg and Bamberg joined the Imperial Army, and even the Franconian branch of the Teutonic Order sent some reinforcements.
Although there was no scene of the people welcoming the royal army with food and drink in Franconia, the people of Franconia who had suffered from the bandits, especially the Empire's merchants, were both excited and fearful upon seeing the Imperial Army.
They were happy to see the Emperor's army completely destroy those arrogant bandits, yet they also worried that security forces from outside the circle would bring deep disaster to the lands of Franconia.
Unfortunately, their fears were correct.
Shortly after the autumn harvest of that year, Imperial armies from Swabia, Bavaria, and Bohemia poured into Southern Franconia.
According to information provided by the Emperor, the three armies were assigned their respective areas of responsibility and laid siege to the castles of knights and nobles suspected of participating in the bandit groups.
The already chaotic Southern Franconia was completely engulfed in the flames of war; amidst the roar of cannons and the trampling of iron hooves, one castle after another was captured, some burned down, while others were kept as spoils of war to be awarded to Imperial members who participated in the suppression.
The many accused knightly families were quickly purged after futile resistance; their property was confiscated, some were sent to the gallows, and the rest were forced into monasteries or exiled.
In less than a month, the Imperial Army assisting in restoring order to Franconia captured 26 crude and impoverished knightly castles, destroyed several manors and villages, and as many as thirty knightly families were struck from the Franconian Imperial Knight Register.
In this process, many poor people also suffered from the calamities of war for no reason, and they had no choice but to lament their misfortune.
Relying on this aggressive momentum, the grand bandit-suppression war came to an end before the arrival of winter.
Its progress was so smooth that even Laszlo was surprised, not to mention those Imperial Princes who were watching the matter.
The price for inciting private wars, violating Imperial laws, and provoking the Emperor was so high that more than half of the Imperial knights in Southern Franconia directly lost their hereditary glory and their lives.
This conflict could not even be called a war; like the war against Lorraine, it was actually another completely unequal, crushing victory.
Although no Imperial Princes directly suffered, the power of the Austria-Swabia-Bavaria iron triangle was enough to shock the heart.
In the two consecutive conflicts that occurred over five months of that year, the Emperor mobilized only a small portion of his army but successfully achieved all his goals.
Not only the Emperor's enemies, but even his allies were deeply shocked.
The Bishop of Würzburg and the Bishop of Bamberg, who had previously fought each other under various pretexts, reached an agreement at the end of that year, not because of a reconciliation, but because both parties agreed to no longer resolve their many disputes in the spiritual and secular realms through unjustified violent means.
With this, the Franconian Circle returned to peace, and the various Imperial armies subsequently withdrew, leaving behind only a scarred Southern Franconia.
After more than half a year, Laszlo finally returned to his loyal Vienna.
Time had passed quickly; it was early spring when he left, yet in the blink of an eye, it was late autumn.
The autumn wind was desolate, and the sudden chill reminded people that winter was approaching.
Standing on the walls of the Hofburg Palace, Laszlo pulled his coat tighter, filled with deep emotions.
So much had happened this year, and so suddenly, that he hadn't realized more than half a year had already passed.
In the spring, he had set out from Vienna, toured Bavaria and Swabia, and stabilized the most important foundation of the empire.
This was the basis for his ability to handle various internal imperial disputes with ease after the Imperial Diet in Augsburg.
The collapse of order elsewhere did not have much impact on him and Austria, but the two major regions in the south that were intertwined with Austria could not be allowed to fall into chaos, otherwise he would have to deal with more trouble.
After stabilizing his staunchest supporters, he spent the entire summer in Innsbruck and witnessed the start and end of two wars within a few short months.
The anticlimactic War of the Lorraine Succession eventually ended with a diplomatic victory; a bloody war was terminated before it even began.
The Duke of Baden received the Lorraine he had been longing for, happy as a child, and consequently completely abandoned the idea of acting against the Emperor.
Influenced by him, the Duke of Württemberg, seeing that Austria's infiltration into Swabia was a fait accompli, had no choice but to reach a reconciliation with the Emperor under the condition that his privileges were guaranteed, and returned to the imperial public donation tax system.
As for the two countries of Austria and Burgundy, after reaching a compromise, they quickly put the series of small episodes that had occurred recently behind them and restored their past friendly alliance, as if those confrontational and tense conflicts had never happened.
The subsequent Franconian War, or rather, the Franconian anti-bandit operation, although small in scale, was far more tragic than the private feuds of knights in the region over the past many years.
When village skirmishes met the regular Imperial Army, a sweeping victory was a completely predictable result.
Although these two wars were both launched and terminated under Laszlo's planning, there was someone else who truly led the various forces to resolve these two important imperial affairs.
Laszlo turned his head to look at Christopher, who was standing beside him.
At this moment, Christopher was reporting the disposal results of the Franconian affairs to Laszlo, with the minister Clement adding a few words from time to time, but Laszlo was busy gazing at the scenery of Vienna and did not listen to much.
The young King of Rome had recently become increasingly steady, but in front of his Emperor and father, he still behaved very respectfully and humbly.
In front of Laszlo, Christopher's performance was almost no different from before, but Laszlo knew that his eldest son was undergoing a transformation.
Under Laszlo's arrangement, Christopher had appeared frequently in various major regions in the southern part of the empire over the past six months.
He had presided over small-scale meetings of the Imperial Estates many times, led the Imperial Army to capture Lorraine, scaring the rebels into fleeing without a fight, and later led troops to clear out the Robber Knights groups in Franconia, greatly improving the security in the southern part of the empire.
As time passed, Christopher's prestige and reputation had begun to slowly accumulate.
Perhaps one day, when people mentioned him, they would not first emphasize that he was the Emperor's eldest son, but affirm his virtue and achievements as the King of the Germans.
If it were another emperor, they might be wary of their son grasping imperial power too early; after all, in the history of the empire, one could count the stories of "kind father, filial son" on one hand.
But Laszlo would not have such worries.
He was eager for Christopher to grow into a talent capable of handling things on his own now, so that he could free up more energy to deal with that huge, difficult-to-handle Kingdom of Hungary to the east of Austria.
Moreover, the power of the empire itself meant endless torment, just like a curse in the Nibelungenlied.
"The dereliction of duty by the Elector of Brandenburg has already caused public outrage in Franconia. The Franconian regional meeting organized by me and Mr. Clement agreed to elect the Bishop of Würzburg as the new governor, and the Elector lodged a protest after the meeting ended."
"Albert was a good man, loyal, reliable, and brave. How did he become like this?"
Laszlo sighed helplessly.
"Your Majesty, the Elector has repeatedly emphasized that his protest at the Imperial Diet in Augsburg was not against your rule, but only a hope that you would truly value and respect the freedom and privileges of each Estate."
Clement conveyed the Elector of Brandenburg's words to the Emperor, but he selectively removed the assertion that "the Emperor's rule cannot last long."
This statement was meaningless other than making the Emperor angry, and could only be considered a ridiculous thought for the Elector to comfort himself when he was frustrated.
"Estate freedom, Estate freedom, do they have no other talking points?" Laszlo shook his head, feeling somewhat annoyed. "The imperial system that those opponents imagine should be like this: every major region must be fully controlled; it must effectively implement all resolutions of the Imperial Diet, and at the same time ensure the security of the region, without infringing on the freedom and rights of each Estate."
"At the center, the Imperial Diet should be led by the College of Electors, and the many core institutions of the imperial government extending from this should also be controlled by them."
"This is intending to make me willingly be a puppet monarch. I rule both Austria and Bohemia, which means I still have to pay money to the imperial treasury—that is one-fifth of the imperial tax revenue!"
"The Emperor pays taxes to his own vassals and lets them decide how to spend the Emperor's and the empire's money. Do you think this is reasonable?"
Laszlo spoke with some excitement, and to his surprise, he was amused by this bizarre theory.
Clement and Christopher also felt that the scene described by the Emperor was quite ridiculous, but they dared not laugh out loud; at such a time, one should feel indignant instead.
"They crave the protection and convenience provided by the empire, yet try their best to reduce the obligations they bear, and in the end, they say you trample on the freedom of the Estates. It is truly unreasonable."
After this period of contact with the Imperial Estates of the Upper Rhine, Swabia, and Franconia, Christopher had gradually understood their contradictory concepts and deeply agreed with his father's complaints.
"They are just afraid of my army and prestige, which is why they engage in this form of protest; otherwise, they would have rebelled long ago."
Laszlo knew the thoughts of the Imperial Estates well, which is why he disdained those opponents.
They lacked the determination and courage to completely break with the empire, so naturally, they would change their stance either actively or passively as time went on.
"The dispute in Franconia is resolved, what about the dispute in the north of the empire? I heard that the Hanseatic League has been fighting like crazy recently?" Laszlo turned to ask Clement.
The three disputes in Franconia were basically quelled because of an armed parade of the Imperial Army and an anti-bandit operation.
After witnessing the maximum destruction that the Imperial Army could bring, the people of Franconia would not want to solve problems through private feuds for the time being.
The work of reshaping order was proceeding in an orderly manner. The Bishop of Würzburg had quietly renewed the Golden Tariff Agreement with the Emperor, continuing to obtain the power to tax wineries in most of Franconia by paying three thousand florins to the Emperor annually.
As a loyal supporter of the Emperor, the Bishop cherished the position of regional governor, so he was much more attentive to regional affairs than the previous governor.
Although he had fierce conflicts with the Bishop of Bamberg and the Elector of Brandenburg, with the support of the Emperor, he was still able to reshape the regional order.
Laszlo had basically settled nine of the empire's eleven major regions, and the remaining two major regions in the north, Upper and Lower Saxony, could be said to be exceptionally lively during the time when Laszlo could hardly exert influence.
Clement nodded and replied: "Currently, the Hanseatic League is fighting England, Oldenburg, and Mecklenburg at the same time, and the King of Denmark is also stirring."
"I know about the England affair, the mess created by those merchants in Cologne. The Duke of Mecklenburg ignored my warning? And what is going on with Oldenburg?"
Every time the Hanseatic League was mentioned, Laszlo felt a headache.
How could such a loose commercial alliance of Free Cities cause such big trouble every time?
Back then, the Hanseatic League's defeat of Denmark directly contributed to the establishment of the Kalmar Union; now, their posture looks like they intend to take on all the powerful enemies in the north single-handedly.
"Duke Henry of Mecklenburg lodged a protest with the Imperial Court, but after receiving the verdict, he refused to accept it, repeatedly lodging protests, and there was no reduction in the tariff restrictions on Lübeck."
"The two sides are now confronting each other with troops stationed at the border. According to the Lübeck City Council, the Duke of Mecklenburg has not taken any rash action, probably still considering your attitude."
"This is also called considering my attitude? I think he really needs to be taught a lesson. He thinks he can do whatever he wants after unifying the Mecklenburg territory by inheriting it?"
Laszlo said irritably, having already lost patience with the duplicitous Duke of Mecklenburg.
"If we want to deal with Mecklenburg, I think we can contact the Duke of Pomerania." Clement gave a suggestion after a little thought.
"Hmm, I kept Pomerania back then just so I wouldn't be helpless at a time like this."
"Mecklenburg is done, what about Oldenburg? I remember Count Gerhard of Oldenburg is the younger brother of the King of Denmark, right?"
"Yes, the Count of Oldenburg has been providing shelter for pirates at the port of Delmenhorst for twenty years, seriously threatening the safety of the surrounding areas and the Hanseatic League's maritime trade routes."
"The Lübeck side, after reaching an agreement with the Bishop of Münster, jointly launched an attack on Oldenburg, attempting to seize Delmenhorst and more territories from the Count."
"The appeal file submitted by the Count of Oldenburg should also be arriving in Vienna soon."
"Appeal... He intends to use legal procedures to resolve this war?"
"After all, he also signed the 'imperial peace decree', so naturally he would hope to use this means to protect himself."
"I remember he is from the King of Denmark's faction, he shouldn't have agreed to pay the public donation tax, right?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, and his opponents have all signed the 'public donation tax ordinance'."
"Then I know what to do." Laszlo showed a cruel smile.
Christopher, who was on the side, asked: "Father, is it okay to indulge the continuation of private warfare?"
"Rest assured, who cares about a guy like the Count of Oldenburg who eats inside and out?"
"I just resolved the dispute between Baden and Burgundy earlier; that was a positive case, and now a negative example has come to the door."
How would Laszlo judge?
He could certainly order the two sides to make peace, or he could approve the Hanseatic League's military operations, but the best way was not to judge and drag it out until the war had a result; that was when he could step in and set the tone.
Christopher buried his head in thought again.
Sometimes his father would forcefully stop a war, and sometimes he would encourage it, but the purpose of both methods was the same: to make followers feel protected, and to make opponents feel that they needed protection, thereby reducing opponents and increasing followers.
Gradually, Christopher realized some of the truth in this.
While he was thinking, Clement mentioned another matter to Laszlo.
"The lord of East Friesland? That free lord who always complains that the Count of Oldenburg invades his territory, seeks my protection, but is unwilling to bear imperial obligations?"
"Yes, but the old lord passed away a few years ago. The new lord is less than ten years old, and the old lord's widow, Lady Teda, is acting as regent."
"This lady sent a messenger not long ago, intending to ask you about the King of Burgundy serving as the governor of Friesland."
"She is worried that the King of Burgundy's military operations against Friesland will cause their territory to suffer losses."
"What does her suffering losses have to do with me? Could it be that she wants to persuade me to withdraw my order?" Laszlo asked indifferently.
"No, she hopes to become a vassal of you and the Holy Empire, and agrees to fulfill a series of imperial obligations you require, just to seek protection."
"Hey, these people are really interesting," Laszlo said, shaking his head with a sneer. "At first, they wouldn't pay taxes or accept the jurisdiction of the Supreme Court no matter what, and now that they hear the Burgundians are coming, they are all willing."
"From this point of view, the Burgundians are indeed an excellent tool to make the empire more united." Clement also said helplessly.
"People now almost treat Mary's father as a flood and a beast, but Burgundy is clearly also a member of the empire..." Christopher probably also understood how pale his defense was, and closed his mouth before he finished speaking.
"When you and Mary rule Burgundy one day, then Burgundy will truly be considered a member of the empire." Laszlo patted his son's shoulder, his eyes full of expectations.
Christopher nodded vigorously. Sooner or later, he would make the subjects of the empire stop changing color at the mention of Burgundy.
"By the way, does Charles intend to march into Friesland now?"
"Currently, the Burgundian army is still doing its best to quell the resistance in Gelre, just a little bit away from achieving full control over the entire territory of Gelre. Next, he may lead his army to France."
"To deal with Louis XI, that haunting guy." Laszlo's face lost its previous ease, and he began to calculate in his heart.
Just as Laszlo was devoting himself wholeheartedly to the task of reforming the empire, the situation in France had undergone drastic changes over these past few months.
Due to the dispute in Lorraine, which had caused a months-long stalemate between Austria and Burgundy, neither side had provided any significant aid to the court in Paris, apart from the single Imperial Army legion that had been hired to provide assistance in France earlier.
Consequently, Charles VIII could only pin his hopes for victory on the protection of God.
After all, Louis XI still bore the infamy of excommunication. Although the people of France, having experienced years of war, no longer placed much importance on such things, Charles VIII used this to insist that he would ultimately achieve victory under God's guidance.
It was unclear how many people actually believed his political propaganda, but in any case, nobles who supported him, such as the Duke of Brittany, the Duke of Nemours, and the Duke of Bourbon, had organized armies intending to join him in resisting Louis XI, who was intent on making a comeback.
The army of Northern France first assembled near Orléans. Despite the lack of support from external forces and the fact that his army appeared large yet disorganized, Charles VIII remained full of confidence about repelling his brother's counterattack.
After waiting for some time in Orléans, the eerie calm on the front lines made Charles VIII realize that something was wrong.
He immediately led his army south to Blois, preparing to seek an opportunity for a decisive battle with the southern army commanded by Louis XI, thereby definitively determining the fate of France.
However, his shrewd brother had no intention of rashly engaging in a decisive battle with him.
Louis XI, on one hand, had the Lord of Albret stabilize the situation in southern France and organize reinforcements, while on the other hand, he used the troops currently at his disposal to establish a tight defensive line in the Loire Valley.
From Amboise Castle to Angers, the military fortresses along the route were reinforced with a certain number of garrison troops, and the fortifications were strengthened.
When Charles VIII, forced by limited supplies, divided his troops to march downstream along both banks of the Loire River to launch attacks on Amboise and Tours, the army's progress was quite slow.
North of the Loire River, despite the artillery support provided by the Imperial mercenary legion, Amboise Castle—as the most frequently used royal residence—withstood the fierce attacks of the Northern French Army for many days thanks to its sturdy fortifications and the tight vigilance of its garrison, holding out until reinforcements from the south arrived.
Meanwhile, the troops advancing south of the Loire River had already met their defeat before the walls of Tours.
Having long been prepared, Louis XI was determined to play the coward; no matter how the Northern French Army provoked him, he simply refused to send troops out to engage.
Furthermore, within a few kilometers of Amboise Castle and Tours, there were several existing auxiliary castles or makeshift strongholds. Clearing out these thorns alone consumed a great deal of manpower. Combined with the scorching summer heat, the weary and overextended Charles VIII soon helplessly discovered that the morale of his army was dropping every day.
Charles VIII's desperate, all-or-nothing attempt failed with the arrival of the reinforcements led by the Lord of Albret.
Aside from plundering the Loire Valley and destroying some villages and weakly defended strongholds, the Northern French Army achieved almost no substantial gains.
After the reinforcements of Louis XI arrived, the army under Charles VIII suffered successive defeats in small-scale skirmishes, and there were even signs of mutiny within the ranks.
With no other choice, Charles VIII had to abandon the idea of seeking a decisive battle and instead led his army in a retreat back to the north.
During the retreat, the rearguard fought a battle against the pursuing Ordinance Cavalry. Although they ultimately succeeded in routing the overeager Ordinance Cavalry, the Imperial troops responsible for the rearguard still suffered significant losses.
Charles VIII had spent months toiling in vain in the Loire Valley with his army, after which he first retreated to Blois, which served as his forward base, and then immediately ran back to Orléans.
By the time they returned here, the contract Charles VIII had signed with the Austrian government had expired. Gunter, who was seething with frustration, ignored the desperate pleas of the French king and led the Independent Army, plagued by disease and exhaustion, on the long journey home.
While losing a major source of support, Charles VIII's financial situation had also reached a dangerously precarious level.
The ravaged northern part of France could hardly support him in maintaining an army of ten thousand men for long-term operations in the south.
His financial officials had squeezed out every possible tax and loan, but it was still insufficient to support the military operations he was leading.
The financial gap could no longer be filled, and Charles VIII had no choice but to learn from most monarchs of this era and begin defaulting on military pay, or authorize free looting to compensate for the shortfall, thereby appeasing the soldiers' anger.
As for the army's supplies, they relied almost entirely on looting. In areas where he had dispatched officials to establish government, those royal bailiffs would convene local estates to collect supplies; in areas where his control was insufficient, he simply needed to send troops lacking provisions there, and it would be done.
By resorting to the method of draining the pond to catch the fish against the people of the Duchy of Orléans, Charles VIII managed to stabilize his army with great difficulty.
Fortunately, Louis XI, at this time, did not choose to take advantage of the situation to launch a counterattack because winter was approaching and the southern French Army was also facing financial and supply difficulties, which relieved a significant amount of pressure on Charles VIII.
Meanwhile, the many great French nobles who had followed Charles VIII into battle were also gradually losing confidence due to the successive defeats.
The first to flee with his troops was the Duke of Brittany.
He himself had no great interest in who ruled France; it was simply that the policies implemented by Louis XI had made him feel threatened. Combined with his ambitions for certain lands in Normandy, he had participated in the League of Public Weal multiple times and had now thrown himself into the French civil war.
With the situation turning unfavorable, his true nature as a separatist feudal lord was quickly exposed.
Compared to continuing to take a beating while following Charles VIII, he chose to flee back to his own territory to preserve himself.
In any case, he had a close relationship with Charles of Burgundy, and as long as there was no trouble within Brittany, he was confident in maintaining Brittany's independence.
The other nobles who followed Charles VIII did not have such confidence.
Whether it was the House of Armagnac or the House of Bourbon, they had already burned their bridges with Louis XI. Once Charles VIII was defeated, they were highly likely to face liquidation.
Even with the constraints of feudal law and tradition, while it was unlikely for Louis XI to kill them outright, it was very likely that he would cut off a significant piece of their power.
The Duke of Armagnac had even prepared to flee to Milan with his family's followers in the event of defeat.
He still had a territory there, and for the past few years, he had consistently maintained contact with the Emperor.
The Emperor's court needed a secret advisor well-versed in French politics, and that position was reserved for him.
Although everyone had begun to look for a way out after the failed expedition, no one could have predicted that disaster would strike so quickly.
Inside the castle of the Duke of Orléans, several great nobles who commanded armies and the court were summoned.
In another room not far from the King's bedroom, the Duke of Armagnac, the Duke of Nemours, the Count of Nevers, and the Duke of Bourbon were waiting anxiously.
"How exactly is His Majesty the King?"
The Duke of Bourbon, his face twisted with anxiety, asked the Duke of Armagnac, who was the only one likely to know the situation, with an expression of inexpressible worry.
The latter merely shook his head, his brow furrowed in a deep, helpless sigh.
According to the doctor's latest diagnosis, the condition of Charles VIII was quite dire; it was very likely that he would not be able to hold on much longer.
"What on earth happened? I heard that His Majesty the King was doing just fine on the battlefield and during the march. How did he fall ill as soon as he returned to Orléans, and why has his condition become so critical?"
The Count of Nevers, who had been dispatched by his nephew, the King of Burgundy, to arrive ahead of time to assist Charles VIII, was also deeply frustrated by this sudden turn of events.
He had only just arrived in Orléans with his troops, and it was unknown when more reinforcements from Burgundy would set out. At such a critical juncture, the French king they supported had run into trouble, instantly making the future seem uncertain and murky.
Facing the probing gaze of the Count of Nevers, the Duke of Armagnac only felt a sense of embarrassment.
He turned his gaze to Jacques, who was standing to the side, only to see that Jacques was also staring at him, waiting for him to explain the situation.
After steeling himself, the Duke of Armagnac, as a close courtier of Charles VIII, finally revealed the truth: "You should also know that His Majesty has been under great pressure recently, and for various reasons, he has yet to marry. The absence of a gentle woman by his side to comfort him has caused our young King great suffering."
"Don't tell me you let His Majesty the King go find a prostitute." The Duke of Bourbon, having vaguely guessed something, closed his eyes in some pain.
"Not a prostitute, but not far off. He took a fancy to a young and wealthy widow in Orléans."
Seeing that his cousin, the Duke of Armagnac, was too embarrassed to speak, Jacques stood up to share the pressure.
"That widow, she carried a wicked curse, and our King fell victim to it without even knowing."
Once these words were spoken, the room fell into an eerie silence, and both the Duke of Bourbon and the Count of Nevers, having learned the truth, wore strange expressions.
If it was a venereal disease, just call it a venereal disease; to actually drag a curse into it.
Moreover, Charles VIII already had some chronic ailments that had plagued him for over twenty years, leaving his body weak.
Now look at this, he recklessly sought to vent his desires and nearly cost himself his life.
"So what should we do now?" asked the Count of Nevers.
However, no one could answer this question.
Charles VIII still had no lawfully wedded queen. He had originally intended to marry Mary of Burgundy, but later this marriage was sabotaged by Louis XI, and Mary was taken in marriage by the Emperor's son.
Since then, he had successively negotiated four or five marriage alliances with the royal families of surrounding nations, all of which fell through due to political turmoil in those countries.
Just like that, Charles VIII became a rare treasure of a boy, nearing thirty and still unmarried.
The golden reputation of being the King of France meant that he was never short of women around him, even fathering quite a few illegitimate children, but to the French people who followed the Salic Law, those children were absolutely useless.
In the eyes of the great feudal lords of France, Louis XI did not seem much better than his younger brother Charles VIII; in fact, Charles VIII was even more popular among the separatist forces because his weakness made him easy to control.
However, Louis XI now possessed an indisputable advantage—he had a healthy heir, while Charles VIII had nothing.
It was under these circumstances that Charles VIII, lacking self-control, still liked to mess around, ultimately reaping the bitter fruits and contracting a serious disease.
This left all of his followers feeling desperate.
Even the Duke of Armagnac, who had always been close to and trusted by Charles VIII, began to miss the days when he worked under the Emperor.
That intoxicating sense of security and reliability was simply rare in the world.
Although after gaining a deeper understanding, the Duke also knew the truth that the Emperor was kind in appearance but black at heart, compared to the cruel and unrighteous Louis XI and the mediocre and incompetent Charles VIII, the days spent serving the Emperor were truly the ones he found most unforgettable.
The last monarch he missed so much was the [Victor King] Charles VII, who had shown him appreciation, and who was the father of this pair of bitter rivals, Louis and Charles.
Just as the group was considering future matters, the door was pushed open, and Charles VIII's personal attendant led them to the young King's sickbed.
The room was brightly lit by candlelight, and the air was filled with a heavy, fishy stench mixed with the unpleasant smell of medicinal herbs.
Perhaps the newly contracted illness had triggered Charles VIII's old ailments; his complexion looked incredibly pale, his body was so thin he was almost unrecognizable, and the phlegm he coughed up was streaked with dark red blood.
In areas unseen by the others, the ulcerations caused by the venereal disease were driving this King, who had failed to keep himself clean, nearly mad with pain, which was why he could only lie stiffly on his side.
The physician nearby had clearly followed the King's instructions and tried every treatment plan he knew, but unfortunately, none had worked.
Just as he had when attending the deathbed of Charles VII, the Duke of Armagnac forced himself to endure the discomfort and approached the bedside, grasping Charles VIII's trembling outstretched hand, preparing to listen to the King's dying words.
Charles VIII's voice was very soft. There were no special instructions, only a request for the Duke to take good care of his two favored illegitimate children.
Subsequently, he expressed his gratitude to the Count of Nevers, praising Charles of Burgundy as a loyal and honest ally.
As for the Duke of Bourbon, he had nothing else to say beyond a single word of thanks.
Regarding his will, it was a pity that Charles VIII did not even have the freedom to draw up a will according to his own wishes.
He had thought of many versions of a will, granting titles to his illegitimate children, leaving the crown to Charles of Burgundy, but these were all meaningless.
His only recognized heir was Louis XI, that mortal enemy who had fought him for over a decade, and who, after his death, would take back the whole of France—a broken "whole."
Although he felt unwilling, once he thought about how much effort Louis XI would have to expend to take back the lands he had sold to Burgundy and Austria, he suddenly felt a sense of relief.
His life as a puppet could not be called brilliant, but at least he had achieved his initial life goal, which was to become the King of France.
After explaining everything, Charles VIII lay quietly for a long time, and then, with a fit of violent coughing, his clouded eyes widened powerlessly for a moment, losing their former luster.
He cast off all heavy burdens, patted his butt, and left, leaving behind only a few followers with troubled expressions to look at each other in dismay.
The news of Charles VIII's death could not be kept secret for long, or rather, it was impossible for anyone to keep it hidden at all.
Because his death was so sudden, and there was no heir capable of stabilizing the situation, the courts and royal governments located in Orléans and Paris nearly collapsed.
Although the Duke of Armagnac and the Duke of Bourbon had tried their utmost to salvage the situation, things were inevitably sliding toward the worst possible outcome.
Although everyone had previously viewed Charles VIII as little more than a large royal seal, his more important role was to serve as a banner, one capable of rallying those dissatisfied with the rule of Louis XI and then using that strength to overthrow the tyrant's rule.
Now, that banner had fallen, and Louis XI was about to make a comeback.
Regrettably, no one could unite the various factions, which were rife with internal dissent, at such a critical moment, nor was it possible to maintain control over Northern France.
Consequently, the army of Charles VIII completely disintegrated following mass desertions and severe mutinies; a small portion retreated to Paris under the leadership of the Duke of Armagnac, while the remaining troops returned to their respective strongholds.
Just as the remnants in Northern France were struggling, several fast horses carrying messengers galloped toward Burgundy and the heart of the Empire.
Soon, the news reached Brussels, which was closest to France.
In a temporary camp near the city of Brussels, the King of Burgundy Charles was inspecting the military camp, checking on the condition of the troops that had been conscripted not long ago.
This army numbered about thirteen thousand, of which nearly eight thousand were elite troops stationed on the border of France and Burgundy, while the remaining few thousand were auxiliary troops conscripted from across Flanders.
These forcibly conscripted farmers were full of resentment, but they had no room to resist.
The King of Burgundy Charles had grand ambitions; although he had lost the opportunity to conquer Lorraine, he still had Gelre, Friesland, and countless lands waiting for him to conquer.
The war in Gelre had ended completely before winter, and those local nobles who had stubbornly resisted faced the most brutal retaliation from the Burgundy army.
Now, the nearly ten thousand troops in Gelre were divided into three groups; half of them were recalled and were returning to Brussels, while the other half were divided into two batches stationed in Gelre and Utrecht to strengthen local defenses.
Charles still needed considerable time to strengthen his control over Gelre and Utrecht, and this would inevitably involve the use of some violent means.
Due to the unrest in Liège, Gelre, and Utrecht, Charles had to set aside nearly a third of his army to guard the Low Countries, while the remaining troops would continue to campaign in the south under his leadership.
Before setting out on an expedition to the Friesland that the Emperor had gifted him, Charles intended to go to France first to assess the situation.
He had previously received a letter from Charles VIII stating that the army in Northern France would face the risk of total collapse after the summer ended.
Therefore, Charles decided to lead his army to overcome the harsh winter conditions and reinforce Northern France, at least to save Paris from the counterattack of Louis XI.
Before the main Burgundy army moved south, he had already sent the Count of Nevers to scout the way, and he thought by now he should have rendezvoused with Charles VIII.
While patrolling the camp, Charles pondered his future plans.
Just as he was predicting the near-term direction of the French war, several people on fast horses rushed into the camp.
The lead minister, Guillaume, quickly brought the messenger of the Count of Nevers before Charles.
"Guillaume, is there any news?"
"Yes, Your Majesty, this messenger from the Count of Nevers has brought back the latest intelligence from France."
There was an unconcealable anxiety on Guillaume's face, which made Charles feel somewhat surprised.
This minister, who was deeply trusted by him, was always very calm; he could hardly imagine what news could make Guillaume lose his composure like this, unless the messenger brought news of Charles VIII's death.
"Your Majesty, Charles VIII died of illness in the city of Orléans a few days ago. Now, the entire Northern France is in chaos. The Count is retreating north in the company of the Duke of Nemours, and other nobles and generals are also leading their troops in a northern retreat."
"What did you say? Charles VIII was fine before; how could he suddenly die?" Charles widened his eyes, his mind blanking for a moment.
"That King contracted a severe illness shortly after leading his army back to Orléans and died quickly on his sickbed. Now, there is no one in control of all of Northern France. The Count requests that you lead your army south as soon as possible. If your movements are swift enough, perhaps you can occupy some important regions before Louis XI leads his army north."
The messenger conveyed the suggestion of the Count of Nevers to Charles, and the latter nodded in agreement.
His first reaction to this news was also to lead the army south as quickly as possible; otherwise, if he handed over all of Northern France to Louis XI, he would suffer for it in the future.
"Are there any movements from Louis XI?"
"When I left Orléans, the enemy army was still holed up along the line of the Loire River."
"Your Majesty, if Louis XI learns of the news of Charles VIII's death, he will definitely lead his army north immediately. We might already be behind." The close courtier Olivier, who was by Charles's side, reminded him anxiously.
Charles also realized this, and after a brief hesitation, his gaze became resolute: "We cannot wait for the troops from Gelre to arrive slowly. Guido, have all units make final preparations; we must march south as soon as possible."
Count Guido von Humbercourt, who was patrolling the camp alongside Charles, immediately received the order to organize the troops.
This Count's fief was located right next to the northern part of Amiens; he was originally just a minor noble in the Picardy region, but through service in the new Burgundy army, he gradually distinguished himself and climbed step by step to the position of a senior officer, deeply trusted by Charles.
Because his own territory was located near the border between France and Burgundy, Guido was eager for Charles to lead his army south as soon as possible; otherwise, the army of Louis XI might visit his territory first.
Therefore, this general would undoubtedly execute Charles's orders meticulously, and as quickly as possible.
After Guido left, Charles brought a group of attendants to the main camp, and they quickly gathered around a table to spread out a map and analyze the situation.
"Fortunately, we did not get entangled in a war with the Emperor at this time. Guillaume, you were right."
Looking at Burgundy on the map, caught between the two major powers of Austria and France, Charles suddenly said to the minister beside him with some emotion.
Guillaume felt flattered and quickly expressed his gratitude to the King: "Your Majesty, your trust in me and the wise decisions you made are the key to everything. I never expected that Charles VIII would die so suddenly; fortunately, we finally salvaged the friendship of the Emperor and resolved the dispute over Lorraine a step ahead. Now we must concentrate our strength to deal with the returning Louis XI."
Charles nodded, fixed his gaze on the map, and said quite confidently: "If I were really facing the pressure of a multi-front war, I might still be somewhat hesitant, but facing only Louis XI, I don't think any accidents will happen."
Although the return of his old rival made Charles feel quite annoyed, he had fought with Louis XI for nearly ten years and was long familiar with the other's nature; his confidence was greater than ever before.
"Your Majesty, even so, before the war officially begins, we might be able to make some diplomatic efforts first; this can increase our advantage and make it difficult for Louis XI to easily control Northern France."
Guillaume looked at the fragmented Northern France; now it was leaderless, and the many great nobles hostile to Louis XI lacked a backbone to preside over the overall situation.
If Louis XI were allowed to come over, he would likely win over some people, eliminate others, and re-establish his rule over Northern France; this process would not be very difficult.
But if Charles could step forward at this time to rally the fragmented alliance, then Louis XI would have a headache for quite a while.
"League of Public Weal? But..." A term that was both familiar and strange to him popped out of Charles's mouth.
In the past, when he was still the leader of the French opposition nobles, the two War of the Public Weal had given Louis XI a massive headache.
Although the result of both wars was that Charles suffered from the shameless deception of Louis XI and lost the fruits of victory he had easily obtained, in the process, Charles did indeed strike a blow to Louis XI's centralized rule and his prestige as a monarch, causing Louis XI to become a known promise-breaker.
However, as he was now the King of Burgundy, under what name should he organize a French feudal noble alliance that opposed the rule of Louis XI under the banner of "public interest"?
"Your Majesty, have you forgotten that Louis XI is currently under excommunication? He and his son are no longer the legitimate kings of France. After the passing of Charles VIII, you, the Duke of Anjou, and the Duke of Orléans all have the right to claim the throne. The Duke of Anjou is old and frail, while the Duke of Orléans is still young and held in the hands of Louis XI; this is your great opportunity." Seeing that Charles was still hesitating, Olivier, who was on the side, lowered his voice and urged him.
Although the banner of the League of Public Weal, Charles VIII, had fallen, Charles of Burgundy might also be able to contend for the French crown.
After all, the House of Burgundy was originally a branch of the House of Valois; although it was not as close in kinship as the Orléans line, it had the advantage of being powerful and famous.
As long as he could secure some outside support, Charles himself could become the next banner of resistance against Louis XI.
At this moment, Charles suddenly revealed a self-deprecating smile and sighed: "I went to great lengths to lead Burgundy away from France, went through all kinds of hardships to finally establish the Kingdom of Burgundy, and from then on gave up the struggle for the French crown; who would have thought that in the end, I would still be unable to avoid fighting for that position?"
When he was young, Charles absolutely hated it when others called him a Frenchman; he referred to himself as either a Burgundian or a Portuguese, but definitely not a Frenchman.
Yet now, he had to pick up the bloodline inheritance of the Valois again, just to deal with Louis XI. It was truly a twist of fate.
"Your Majesty, I think this matter requires more preparation. At the very least, we must secure the support of His Majesty the Emperor, so that the Pope will naturally stand on our side as well. If Vienna and Rome both recognize your succession, then it will definitely not be a problem to raise the banner. Before that, it is better for us to contact allies with the opportunity of jointly resisting Louis XI."
Guillaume did not oppose such an adventurous proposal, but in times like this, one certainly had to look at the Emperor's attitude; after all, the King of Burgundy was the Emperor's vassal, a point that no one could question now.
To inherit a foreign throne, theoretically, just notifying the Emperor would suffice, but for Charles, as a distant relative, to want to inherit the vacancy left by Charles VIII, he still needed the legitimacy support provided by the Pope.
"Then let's do it. We must send messengers to contact Brittany, Bourbon, and Nemours. Afterward, have the Austrian ambassador come over; I want to send a message to the Emperor to discuss this matter."
Charles quickly made the arrangements.
The Burgundy messengers quickly set off to contact the great nobles of Northern France, intending to pull them in to deal with the impending lightning-fast return of Louis XI.
On the other side, Charles specifically wrote two letters; one was sent back to Vienna by the Austrian ambassador, and the other was taken to Rome by a special envoy.
He had to discuss with the two major authorities in the secular and spiritual realms of the Catholic world the possibility of him, a person of the Valois-Burgundy line, inheriting the vacant French throne.
After doing all this, Charles summoned his generals and held a military meeting that lasted for several hours to discuss the battle plan after entering France.
Just as the Burgundy side was methodically making war preparations, Louis XI, who had received the news a step earlier, had already taken action.
Holed up in Tours, Louis XI did not initially believe the news of his brother's sudden death and even worried that there might be a trap to lure him into taking the bait, so he delayed and did not advance while the opportunity existed.
It was not until a few days later, when news from multiple sources confirmed the death of Charles VIII, and the disintegration and retreat of the army stationed in Orléans caused a great commotion, that it would have been difficult for the spies of Louis XI not to discover this change.
Having confirmed the news, Louis XI was ecstatic. He subsequently divided his army into three routes: one went straight along the Loire River to pierce into Berry, one went north to attack Orléans and Paris, and another went north from the west to break into Normandy.
Facing the counterattacking French Army, most castles and towns chose to surrender at the first sight of them.
In some regions, the nobles and officials had received news of the death of Charles VIII, and thus welcomed the return of the old King with joy; in other regions, the people did not care at all about who ruled, as they were unwilling to suffer the devastation of war again, so they all chose to kneel and beg for surrender.
This time, the usually brutal Louis XI unusually implemented military regulations to pacify the people; although incidents of plundering villages and towns still occurred from time to time, most regions did not suffer severe harassment.
This was partly due to the restrictions of Louis XI, and partly because Northern France had been scraped clean several times in the past few years, and there was really no oil or water left to squeeze out.
The three armies advanced rapidly; most of the territory of the Duchy of Orléans was recovered by the French Army within a month, progress in the direction of Normandy was slow due to the threat of the Duke of Brittany, and the offensive in the direction of Berry was also delayed due to the resistance of the Duke of Bourbon.
With the arrival of winter, the war also began to move toward a new phase.
Vienna, Hofburg Palace.
Having completed his task, Christopher made a brief stop in Vienna before setting off to return to the western territories.
As the Emperor's plenipotentiary in the west, he obviously could not be absent for too long; moreover, he was highly dedicated to western affairs and determined to manage the territory his father had entrusted to him well.
Not long after his eldest son left, Maximilian, who had gone to Rome, returned to Vienna, bringing back a daughter-in-law for Laszlo.
Princess Beatrice of Naples was an erudite, elegant, and beautiful woman. However, due to her relatively lowborn status, Maximilian always treated her with a lukewarm attitude.
As the Governor of Milan, maintaining an alliance with Naples through marriage was beneficial to Maximilian.
Yet the King of Naples was, after all, a widely criticized bastard, and marrying his daughter felt like a step down in status to Maximilian.
He had seen plenty of beautiful women. Although Maximilian was still very young, once freed from his father's discipline, he quickly began to indulge himself, gradually letting loose.
To put it nicely, it was called being dashing and romantic; to put it bluntly, he was just acting like a rogue, seducing noblewomen everywhere.
To make matters worse, Maximilian had inherited a handsome face from his mother, making him highly popular among the noble ladies of Milan.
Since he never lacked women throwing themselves at him, Maximilian naturally did not value Beatrice's personal qualities, but cared more about his wife's lineage.
If he compared himself to his elder brother, Christopher, Maximilian felt even more unbalanced.
Although they had both married kings' daughters, the two situations could not be compared at all.
The King of Burgundy was wealthy and powerful, an outstanding 'Alexandrian' monarch admired by many young nobles. On the other hand, the King of Naples... not only was he a bastard who succeeded the throne, but raising his daughter's dowry had even triggered a domestic rebellion. Had it not been for the Emperor's assistance back then, he would have been overthrown by the House of Anjou long ago.
The difference between one king and another could be greater than the difference between a king and a dog.
Despite his deep-seated contempt, the wedding had already taken place, and the dowry Beatrice brought had been split between him and his father. It was too late to say anything now.
Laszlo also noticed that the newlyweds did not seem very harmonious. He did not care too much but gave Maximilian a brief word of advice.
His recall of Maximilian this time, besides the customary annual debriefing and meeting the second prince's new wife, was for another important matter.
Considering that Maximilian had come of age and married, Laszlo decided to officially grant him some fiefs in accordance with tradition.
Despite the long list of titles Maximilian currently held—Archduke of Austria, Imperial Prince, Governor of Milan, and so on—he was in fact still a landless noble.
Meanwhile, the Emperor's eldest son, Christopher, had not only been crowned King of the Romans but had also been granted the vast majority of the western territories, possessing enough strength to rival the Electors.
By contrast, Maximilian looked very much like an unfavored prince, yet the Emperor still entrusted him with the heavy responsibility of Governor of Milan, which caused concern among the ministers.
They advised Laszlo to grant the second prince a decent fief, otherwise trouble would arise sooner or later.
"Maximilian, you have made very rapid progress during your time in Milan. I have already learned of many things from the reports of the Marquis of Montferrat.
Of course, it would be even better if you could restrain your philandering nature."
Laszlo did not skimp on his praise, but his sudden turn of phrase made Maximilian curl his lip in annoyance.
This prince had always found his father's restraint and self-discipline in certain aspects incomprehensible.
Although Laszlo, as Emperor, did not live an ascetic life, it still seemed far too plain—or rather, boring—compared to the typical impression of imperial court life.
Laszlo's only expensive hobby was probably collecting crowns and artworks. Of course, most of the collection in the Hofburg Palace treasury had not been acquired by spending money.
Other than that, he was completely a ruthless political machine, with documents on his desk covering a multitude of complex affairs from Asia Minor to the British Isles.
Being entangled in a massive amount of official business meant that Laszlo's time for relaxation was relatively scarce.
Unlike his father, Maximilian was highly passionate about banquets, jousting tournaments, hunting, and even gambling, many of which were interests he had picked up from his mother.
It was true that his learning ability was outstanding, and it was also true that he loved indulging in pleasure; at least for now, he still maintained a balance between the two.
"If that is your request, I will make changes, Father."
Despite his inner disagreement, Maximilian, as a son and subject, answered submissively.
Laszlo could easily see through the boy's perfunctory attitude, but he did not press further.
After all, what they were going to discuss today was something to be happy about, and there was no need to make everyone unhappy.
"It had better be. I called you here today not only to talk about the situation in Milan, but also to tell you some good news."
"Good news?"
"You see, you have now come of age and married a princess, so it is time you had your own estate.
Therefore, I plan to carve out Parma and Piacenza from the southern part of the Duchy of Milan to establish a Duchy of Parma. How would you like to be its first duke?"
1
With a smile on his face, Laszlo waited to see what kind of interesting reaction his son would have.
"Thank you for your grace, Father. I shall offer you my eternal loyalty."
Maximilian showed a look of surprise and joy almost immediately, quickly mimicking the nobles who had come to Vienna to swear fealty as he made his vow to his father.
But immediately after, he noticed a detail in Laszlo's words.
"Father, does this Duke of Parma not count as a direct vassal of the Empire?"
"Of course, the Parma region remains a part of the Duchy of Milan and is subject to the administration of the Milanese government, but this does not affect your right to rule over that land.