She changed Europe

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These lurking insects repeatedly challenged her bottom line, and as a "man," she absolutely could not allow those around her to get hurt again.

Leopold's death further fueled Gisela's resentment towards the powerful and wealthy. The problems of the Hungarians and the imperial elites were issues Gisela needed to address.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 304 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 20 My name is "Leopold"!

"By the way, what is Bavaria's attitude?"

“Your Highness, Princess Luitpold is extremely indignant. She hopes the Empire can find out as soon as possible who instructed the coachman to stab her son to death.” Rita handed Gisela a handwritten copy of an official letter from Munich to the embassy in Vienna.

Although this matter has not yet escalated, and both Austria and Bavaria have tacitly agreed to remain silent, there is no conflict between minimizing public opinion and investigating the truth.

"I'd like to ask them how they selected the people!" After all, the dead coachman wasn't appointed by the Empire. If this hadn't happened in Vienna, they wouldn't be blaming the Empire like this. It's a pity that someone else's son died on your doorstep.

"Miss Hannah, how confident are you in getting those damned ants to come out of here with money?" Gisela placed the official letter on the table and asked the Rothschild heiress, who had remained silent all along.

Since the Empire's own intelligence agencies were unreliable, she had no choice but to find another way and conduct investigations from other angles.

"Your Highness, do you have an idea?" Hana turned her head and smiled slightly, her speech exuding her unique elegance and composure. She seemed to have realized something.

“Miss Hannah, instead of asking what the all-knowing and all-powerful King Solomon knows, I think it would be more efficient to ask what he doesn’t know.”

“Your Highness, your rationality is a beacon of wisdom that we all admire. As fellow descendants of Abraham, we also have reason to join you in eradicating heresies among heretics.” Those familiar with history should know that early Christianity originated from Judaism, so they can all claim to be descendants of Abraham. Early Christianity has always been regarded as a heresy of Judaism, and Jesus, who was born in Judaism, is regarded as an apostate by Jews who believe in Judaism.

"Then I'll leave this matter to you." Gisela had developed a special trust in this taciturn Jewish girl in some ways, even though she kept telling herself that this was a cooperative relationship maintained by mutual benefit. But it was precisely because of this that she felt more at ease.

If necessary, she might target Jews in the future, as that's simply her way of life.

"Yes, Your Highness. By the way, regarding the Hungary issue, your plan..." As an investor, she naturally always pays attention to whether her investment is worthwhile.

Even a fool would understand that Gisela's trip to Budapest would be anything but easy. After all, peaceful coexistence with the aggressive Hungarian nobles was no simple matter. In the eyes of most imperial nobles, even a princess who had distinguished herself in the Italian Wars was still just an inexperienced young girl when it came to thorny political issues. War was different from politics; politics was the wisdom of compromise.

Just then, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and they both turned their gaze toward the door in unison.

"Lord Gisela, a guest wishes to see you."

"Let him in."

“Okay.” Rita gently and politely pushed open the door, leading a “boy” dressed in men’s clothing into the room. Gisela observed the “boy” in front of her with some confusion for a moment, then the corners of her mouth slightly raised, clearly she seemed to understand something.

"Please don't stare at me like that. Is this how you, as an Austrian princess, behave?" The "young man" held his head high, his upright posture giving him a unique air of sternness.

"Is that so? I think you're being overly sensitive." Gisela slowly walked towards her seat, snapping her fingers lightly as she turned back. Aponia, understanding, smiled, bowed to Gisela, and then retreated to the door. Rita, seeing Aponia acting more like a maid than herself, felt a strange displeasure, as if her unique position by His Highness's side had been taken away. However, this feeling ultimately didn't affect Rita's actions; she eventually followed Aponia out of the room.

After all, her relationship with His Highness was much deeper than that of that low-class nun.

“Your Highness, I have something to tell you, but please ask this unrelated person to leave.” The “young man” glanced lightly at Hana, who was still standing motionless to the side, and then spoke to Gisela.

"Why? Do I know you that well? I don't want to share a room with a complete stranger." Gisela sat down in her seat, crossed her legs slightly, and casually opened a document on the table, glancing at it casually.

"This matter is very important!" The "young man" bowed deeply to Gisela. The overly standard posture surprised Gisela. After all, in Gisela's impression, he was not someone who would easily bow down. Unlike Jeanne's arrogance, the person in front of her was only arrogant but not spoiled. She seemed to see no one but Leopold.

“You can start deleting Qi Shanqun.” Gisela gave Hana a look, and the clever Hana understood Gisela’s meaning immediately. So she quickly moved away from the wall she was leaning against, and then left the room without looking back, of course closing the door behind her.

“Please speak your mind, Miss Nina.” Gisela had already seen through everything. Although the “young man” in front of her was perfect in both his attire and manners, he was deliberately imitating his brother, which seemed rather clumsy to Gisela.

“No! My name is Leopold, the name Nina no longer exists.” Nina’s expression was serious, showing no sign of joking.

"Really? Is this your choice?" Although she had vaguely sensed that Nina seemed to have feelings for her brother that went beyond familial affection during their time together, she hadn't criticized her. After all, it was a family matter, and she had more important things to focus on.

“This is what I’m giving you.” Nina’s hands trembled slightly, tears welling up in her eyes, but she kept telling herself that a “man” shouldn’t cry so easily.

"I will carry on my brother's wish and protect you forever!" The girl bit her teeth, feeling the grievance of losing her loved one and the unspoken vow she made to her former "love rival" in order to fulfill her brother's entrustment.

After saying that, Nina turned and walked towards the door without looking back.

Gisela took the blood-stained black box from her hand, then looked up at the girl.

"Where are you going now?" Gisela asked.

"I'm going to Munich to take back everything that rightfully belongs to him and me," the girl replied.

PS1: Waaaaa, Leopold is gone!

Chapter 305 The Fall of St. Stephen's Crown: Capter 21 Departure! Budapest! (Vote Requested)

"Goodbye, little Gisela, please take good care of yourself." Queen Elizabeth looked at Gisela boarding the train with reluctance, while Principal Serena, also smiling, stood behind her. Her father, Emperor Joseph, did not seem to be present, but this was not difficult to understand, as His Majesty was busy with state affairs. As a diligent and famous monarch of the Habsburg dynasty, Joseph's workaholic nature was well-known. Unfortunately, being an emperor cannot rely solely on unreliable diligence; wisdom is also necessary, but this was precisely what Joseph lacked most.

Sophie didn't come, and Gisela knew that her strong yet pitiful sister was bedridden with illness. Rudolf didn't come either; that brat seemed to be doing nothing all day long. Ever since Gisela had disciplined him, the two siblings hadn't spoken a word to each other.

Of course, Gisela had no idea that Rudolf had been beaten so badly by Queen Elizabeth that he couldn't get out of bed again...

“Mother, I will write to you often.” Gisela turned to bid farewell to her relatives and friends, nodding and smiling at Queen Elizabeth. Gisela admired mature and intellectual older women, like Bismarck and Queen Elizabeth—“older women”—although Jeanne was also wonderful, but as the saying goes, you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Of course, being a “vixen,” she wasn’t picky, because beauty is only for the strong! This was her self-perceived privilege.

"Go for it, little one, I believe you won't let me down." Although Queen Elizabeth didn't say it explicitly, how could the intelligent Gisela not understand the meaning behind her mother's words?

Soon after Gisela entered the Royal Carriage, the train, bearing the double-headed eagle emblem and parked at Vienna Railway Station, departed Vienna with a "whoosh" of its whistle, heading towards Budapest, the capital of the Kingdom of Hungary, hundreds of kilometers away.

Gisela gently smoothed her hair and then glanced at the ladies in her carriage: Rita, Aponia, Jeanne, Hana, and Shahrador. All of Gisela's trusted confidantes were there, except for Rania, who was still farming in Bohemia with Mr. Werner Siemens.

Empire, Church, Sixth Empire, France, Ottoman—the small carriage was filled with elites and important figures from various powers and countries. Some stayed by Gisela's side for interests, some for duties, and some for one reason or another, but they all served Gisela in their own way.

"Ladies, now that we're preparing to go to Hungary, there's no need for me to keep it from you any longer. I just want to tell you one thing." Gisela raised her right hand, extended her fingers, and held them out to the ladies.

“The crown of St. Stephen will surely fall, and I must be crowned Empress.” Gisela’s tone carried an unwavering determination, drawing all eyes to her.

“Shahrador, I now order you to immediately depart for the southern part of the Empire upon your arrival in Budapest, and to make extensive contact with the Muslim communities in Outer Letania oppressed by the Magyars, gathering information from them.” Gisela believed that this tanned, alluring Turkish woman would accomplish the task she had been given, for they had a secret pact: Gisela would help her rescue Sultanahrem of the Ottoman Empire, and Shahrador must unconditionally pledge her loyalty to Gisela.

Others may not know, but Gisela already knew that Shahrador was actually a magic user exiled from the Ottoman Empire, but for personal reasons he had never revealed his situation to the outside world, nor had he ever used his power.

"Yes, Your Highness." Shahrado bowed and replied softly. Looking at the older sister's sexy outfit and the two swaying fruits on her chest, Gisela was momentarily dazed.

At this moment, Rita, with her keen senses, noticed her prince's reaction and lowered her head helplessly. Looking at her chest, which, while well-proportioned, paled in comparison to some others, she thought, "People are indeed born unequal, and my prince simply likes big ones..."

“Ahem! Miss Aponia, I won’t interfere in your church’s affairs. You know what to do.” Gisela coughed lightly and turned to look at Aponia, the elegant new maid who always stood by her side. This highly efficient nun had quietly gained Gisela’s considerable trust.

“I swear to the Lord, your will will surely be blessed.” Aponia knelt before Gisela, then grasped the cross on her chest and placed her right hand on her own breast.

It has a strong sense of ritual and is strangely beautiful; Gisela loves it.

“Miss Hannah, I trust the capabilities of your Rothschild family's financial intelligence network. I need you to oversee the expenditures of all the prominent Hungarian noble families in Budapest. You can conduct a thorough investigation into their accounts and assets.” In this era, it was common practice for high-ranking nobles to outsource their accounts to large, wealthy merchants. Directly monitoring them was clearly a poor strategy. Rather than doing such a thankless task, it was better to start with the Rothschild family's familiarity with finance and indirectly monitor these individuals through their expenditures.

"Of course, no problem." Hannah gently pushed up her glasses, then skillfully took out a pen from her bag and made two quick notes in her notebook.

“Rita, from the moment I arrive in Budapest, my St. Stephen’s Regiment soldiers will be entering Budapest in thirty waves, which is expected to take about two months. During that time, I need you to keep them completely hidden. I know you have a background in intelligence work, so this shouldn’t be difficult for you.” Gisela hadn’t forgotten the double agent scheme that Rita and her sister had put on for her when she first arrived in Vienna.

"Yes, sir!" For Rita, perhaps nothing was more gratifying than being assigned a task by His Highness. Although His Highness had matured and no longer relied on her, as long as His Highness needed her, it meant that she was still being watched over by Gisela, and that was enough.

“And what about me!” Jeanne pushed through the crowd, walked up to Gisela, raised her head, and looked at the fox with a dissatisfied expression. Although she still had a “sour face,” Gisela wasn’t angry at all.

"You can just stay by my side as my maid." Gisela calmly found a seat in the middle of the train and sat down with her legs crossed.

"Why! Why do they all have things to do, but I have to stay by your side!" Jeanne complained, hands on her hips, somewhat dissatisfied.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 306 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 22 Jeanne's Tea Ceremony (Seeking Votes)

“I don’t trust you, you’re not loyal enough.” Gisela took the black tea that Aponia had already brewed and took a small sip. The rich aroma immediately filled her mouth, making her squint her eyes involuntarily, and her fox ears twitched with pleasure. Fortunately, her fur was relatively thick and she didn’t experience any shedding or hair loss.

"Tell me, where have I been disloyal!" Perhaps provoked by Gisela's words, she questioned her.

“Loyalty that isn’t absolute is absolute disloyalty.” Gisela raised an eyebrow and smiled at the others beside her.

"Darjeeling is quite good, but I still prefer Keemun black tea. Compared to the rich aroma of Darjeeling, Keemun has a more mellow flavor." For some reason, Gisela always thinks of her predecessor 1141154 whenever she thinks of black tea, who always liked to add a lethal dose to his tea and then scream. Although Gisela and Rita had done the same thing to Rania before.

It is worth mentioning that the main reason Gisela loves Qimen black tea is because this black tea is produced in China, the land she cherishes. After all, no matter what her identity is, the memories of her past life are still a precious treasure in her heart.

"How about trying something different?" Gisela whispered to Aponia.

“Yes, Your Highness Gisela.” Aponia nodded and smiled, her every move so perfect that even Rita, who always considered herself Gisela’s number one maid, had to admit that this nun was quite skilled at taking care of people.

The two chatted harmoniously, which made the naturally proud Duchess of France feel inexplicably uncomfortable, because Gisela was obviously deliberately ignoring her.

Thinking of all this, Jeanne snatched the plate from Aponia's hand and walked to the tea-making area on her own, in front of everyone.

"What's the big deal! It's just brewing black tea, I can do that too!" Jeanne muttered to herself as she carefully used tweezers to gently transfer the tea leaves into the teacup.

How could the Duchess of Orleans, who was used to being waited on hand and foot, possibly know how to make tea, a "technical skill"? Failure was perhaps already destined, but Gisela didn't dislike Jeanne Alter's tsundere attitude. After all, her tsundere nature was also part of her charm.

“Lady Jeanne, that’s not Keemun black tea, that’s…” Aponia was about to make a fool of herself by creating a black Jeanne, but Gisela stopped her.

Jeanne quickly presented Gisela with a cup of disastrously presented black tea. It was supposed to be black tea, but it had turned black; its strange color and sticky consistency made it look more like sesame paste…

"Here, have some!" Jeanne handed Gisela the black tea, crossing her arms and speaking with a touch of haughtiness. But if you paid close attention, you'd notice that her narrowed golden eyes would occasionally glance in Gisela's direction, her expectant look making Gisela feel a pang of guilt.

"This woman is really easy to understand..." Gisela thought to herself.

Forget it, I won't discourage her. Gisela isn't some kind of demon. She watched Jeanne brew the tea, so even if it tasted strange, it couldn't be that weird. So she pinched her nose and drank the liquid in the cup in one gulp.

As the liquid passed through her mouth, down her esophagus, and into her stomach, Gisela's first thought was that it did taste like black tea. "But why is my vision blurry?" Gisela gently rubbed her eyes, but the situation didn't improve at all.

I think I'm about to collapse? I'll rest for a while, and I'll be fine in a bit.

“Jeanne, your black tea is very good…” Gisela’s voice was somewhat ethereal, and soon with a bang, the car fell into an eerie silence.

The group looked at each other blankly for a moment, then rushed towards the unconscious fox like madmen. They could live without anyone else, but not without this fox.

"Summon a doctor!"

at the same time----

The protagonist is never the only one who takes action. Meanwhile, hundreds of kilometers away in Genoa, a woman with brown hair and an approachable appearance gently pushed open the dilapidated door of a tavern and then scanned her surroundings.

"Flower of God" is a bar whose very name exudes a blasphemous atmosphere. Fortunately, this name was born in a good era, when religious tolerance gave these impious heretics more room to hide. Here, there are no torches of inquisitions, nor the hammers of witch hunters.

“I need to find someone, her name is…” The woman named Garibaldi, with her head held high and her arms crossed over her chest, calmly looked at the group of patrons who were casting disapproving glances at her.

"Miss, this is an adult's place. A little girl like you should go play house with your older brothers and sisters." A bald, burly man leaned back on a stool, crossing his legs on the table, looking extremely arrogant.

Garibaldi sneered and continued walking toward the bartender, never once glancing at the burly man.

"No, no, no! You know, I usually want to teach little girls who don't listen to their parents' advice a lesson." The burly man stood up with a sarcastic tone, blocking Garibaldi's way. His mercenary expression was just like that of a rat in the sewers.

“Sir, please move aside. I don’t want to make a mess of this place over such trivial matters.” Garibaldi, who had been annoyed by too many trivial matters lately, clearly did not have the patience for such “intimate” interaction with this man.

"Listen to this, is this even reasonable?" The burly man raised his arms and waved them around. Instantly, many guests at the tables in the hall stood up at the same time. Without a doubt, they were all thugs responding to the burly man's call.

“You probably don’t know that in Genoa, even the mayor has to look after me…” Before the man could finish speaking, with a loud bang, the man who had just been standing in front of Garibaldi was sent flying like a cannonball, crashing into several pillars before slamming heavily against the wall.

The atmosphere became very strange at this moment. The thugs, who were originally planning to bully the weak, were left feeling awkward and bewildered by this sudden scene.

"Cough cough, kill her!" the bald man roared with difficulty, but before he could catch his breath, a magic dagger slashed through the air and stuck less than an inch from his cheek, the weapon still emitting a faint white light.

“If you keep talking nonsense, I won’t give you a second chance.” Garibaldi narrowed his eyes and coldly responded to the bald, burly man who was already too scared to breathe.

“Little girl? Ask your parents where you were when I was fighting in the two Italian wars and the South American revolutionary movement.” Garibaldi slowly walked up to the man, gently pulled out the dagger that was embedded in the wall, spun it once, and then put it back into the scabbard on her leg wrap.

PS1: Ra!

Chapter 307 The Fall of Saint Stephen's Crown: Capter 23 Garibaldi's Expedition (Seeking Votes)

"Brown-haired magic... You are Lady Garibaldi!?" Some of the more knowledgeable thugs seemed to recognize the woman's identity.

"So?" Garibaldi gently pulled off the cloak covering her body, revealing a dark military uniform to everyone. Garibaldi's appearance, already influenced by magical energy, was that of a teenager, and the maturity beneath her youthful exterior made her even more impressive.

Garibaldi's fame has long been known throughout the Apennine Peninsula, and perhaps not only the Apennine Peninsula, but even in the hearts of all Italians around the world. This woman has long been a kind of faith. When this name and she herself appear before these people, no one can help but be surprised, because she is a living legend.

"Are you soldiers of the kingdom?" Garibaldi deduced their identities from their tattered and worn clothing.

"Reporting, sir, I am a corporal from the 3rd Company, 1st Battalion, 4th Brigade, 7th Division of the Kingdom of Sardinia."

"Reporting, sir, I am..." From their reply, Garibaldi could tell that these so-called thugs were former soldiers of the kingdom. Why would these national heroes have fallen so low as to become street hooligans? The answer was simple: the kingdom had been defeated.

Prime Minister Cavour's plan, which originally relied on French assistance, was completely thwarted by the successive defeats at the Battle of Ticino, the Battle of Magenta, and the Battle of Milan. Their ally, France, was deeply embroiled in its civil war and unable to attend to the situation in Italy, while Britain, although preserving the Kingdom of Sardinia, tacitly allowed Austria-Hungary to acquire all rights from Sardinia except for territorial claims.

War reparations, mounting debts, and the secret cession of Savoy and Nice to the French government further exacerbated the conflict between the people and the Savoy rulers, indicating that the country's turmoil would likely continue. In such a time, who would remember the soldiers who had fought and bled for their country?

“You… it’s a pity the country can’t give you the honor you deserve.” Garibaldi sighed helplessly.

"Sir, we've heard you're gathering an expeditionary force! Could we join you on your expedition?" The veterans looked at the young woman with expectant eyes. No one believed Garibaldi was responsible for the Italian defeat; most preferred to blame the French and the incompetent Sardinian officers. (Although that was indeed the case.)

Hope! For every Italian yearning for unification, Garibaldi was their hope, and they were willing to follow in his footsteps for that last candle.

“Of course, I welcome every warrior willing to fight for our nation.” Garibaldi had no reason to refuse. For Misera, who was about to become the Queen of Sardinia (the former king was already preparing to abdicate due to public pressure), she hoped to hand over a better domestic situation to her.

For some reason, besides Misella, Garibaldi's mind was now also filled with images of her enemy, the Austrian princess named Gisela Louise Marie. The memories of their time together, and the fact that the woman was willing to let her go—sometimes she simply couldn't understand what that princess was thinking.

"What are you thinking about, sir?" The soldiers looked at the lady with some confusion as a smile inexplicably appeared on her lips.

"It's nothing. You all should head to the port to report for duty. Because the number of ships is limited, I can't take everyone to Sicily. So if you want to fight alongside me, be prepared to sacrifice yourself at any time."

"Yes, sir." The soldiers saluted and left the bar. As for the burly man who had just acted recklessly, no one cared whether he lived or died. Instead, they left him writhing in pain on the ground.

“Next.” Garibaldi looked up at the clock in the center of the hall. It was clear that the time he had agreed to meet the guest had passed. Unfortunately, the guest did not seem to have arrived. Thinking of this, Garibaldi prepared to turn around and leave.

"Miss Giuseppe Garibaldi, it's a pleasure to meet you." A deep and refined male voice came from the direction of a small wooden table at the edge of the hall. The voice seemed to have a unique magnetism that made it hard to forget after just one listen.