1636: The Viennese Waltz

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Prince Karl Eusebius von Liechtenstein watched Istvan Janoszi smile nervously as he was ushered into the oak-paneled room. It was perfectly clear to Karl that Janos Drugeth’s minion didn’t want to be here.

“What can I do for you, Your Serene Highness?” Istvan asked.

Karl held up a cut-crystal glass with a light yellow bubbling liquid in it, swirled it around for a moment, sniffed, took a sip and made a face. “The latest attempt at producing Sprite still leaves something to be desired.” Karl waved Istvan to one of the padded leather chairs he had in his study and continued. “But you don’t care about that. Nor should you. What you care about is recruiting up-timers to go to Austria. And yet, at last report His Imperial Majesty Ferdinand II doesn’t believe that up-timers have anything of real value to offer the world. Or has that changed since last I heard from my uncles?”

Karl waited to see if Istvan would lie. He ought to know better but he was probably a bit off his game.

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