"What about the entourage injured in the explosion just now?" he asked Governor Potiorek.
"Your Highness, they are being treated at the Sarajevo State Hospital; their injuries are not too serious."
"Hmm... then how about we go to the hospital to visit the wounded? After this attempted assassination, the atmosphere is already bad enough. Besides, the Empire's relations with Serbia are already strained; if this trip could end with a gesture of mercy and goodwill, wouldn't it better win people's hearts and ease the conflict?"
Ah, I see.
This is the so-called death flag.
...
"I—I say, Your Highness! That certainly won't do! Absolutely not! There might be other assassins lurking in the city!"
Fortunately, by Franz Ferdinand's side, there was at least one staff officer who understood the stakes.
He was pale and trembling, yet he still firmly offered his advice to dissuade him.
"Your Highness, Sarajevo is not a city swarming with assassins. This was merely an isolated incident by a few fanatics. I will take full responsibility for the safety of the rest of the itinerary."
And the person who said this, claiming he would be responsible to the end, was none other than the Governor of Bosnia, Potiorek.
Responsible, my foot! You incompetent fool! Karl almost cursed out loud in his mind.
Even if Franz Ferdinand was being stubborn, it's one thing not to try your hardest to stop him, but to actually egg him on and cater to him with such hollow assurances...
Later, on the Serbian front of World War I, wasn't it this very General Potiorek who led the Austro-Hungarian army only to be utterly routed?
In that war, the chaos of the Austro-Hungarian command system and the flaws of its mediocre and conservative generals were fully exposed, but the causes of defeat had already been sown before the war.
I was the fool for having even a shred of expectation for such a person, thinking he could handle the security details properly.
"Uncle," Karl said, stepping forward.
"Karl? Ah, sorry... You were also startled; I should have checked on you first."
Franz Ferdinand looked at Karl with a look of sincere apology.
Although insisting on coming along was Karl's own decision, Ferdinand, who was quite generous by nature, never dwelled on such details and would instead care for others first.
"It's alright, I'm not hurt."
Of course, he had still been quite frightened when the bomb went off just now. Who would have thought that while the assassins' target vehicle was fine, the flying shrapnel had injured the guard sitting in front of him.
Yet in this situation, the Crown Prince actually proposed taking a detour to a hospital with such a complex environment?
"Uncle, I believe the situation is still very dangerous. The one caught just now is likely only a member of an action team; other assassins probably haven't been cleared out yet."
The group of assassins is most likely still lurking within Sarajevo. This city appears calm under imperial rule, but in reality, it is a place where the undercurrents of Yugoslav nationalism are surging.
Young radical Serbian or Bosnian students, incited by secret organizations like the "Black Hand" or "Young Bosnia," view the assassination of high-ranking Austro-Hungarian officials as the heroic spark to ignite the history of national liberation.
"If we must visit the wounded at the hospital to show concern, why not postpone it until tomorrow? Go after the city has been thoroughly searched?"
Karl did not choose to forcibly stop Franz Ferdinand. He understood his uncle's character; telling a naturally stubborn person "you are not allowed to do it" often only provokes a rebellious spirit, resulting in a "I'm going to do it anyway."
If the Old Emperor Franz Joseph was the kind of workaholic who would only leave his desk upon death, then Franz Ferdinand was the kind of person who would only let go of his obsessions upon death.
The damn Habsburg Family; they really are cut from the same cloth when it comes to stubbornness.
In that case, giving him a seemingly safer alternative was the wise move.
Meaning: today is too dangerous, change it to tomorrow.
They already caught one alive; as long as the interrogation is handled properly, that fellow will likely cough up all the information about his accomplices.
Don't believe in that "will of iron" nonsense; police interrogations in the early 20th Century, especially those involving the assassination of royalty, involved torture that couldn't be endured just by gritting one's teeth.
People always like to imagine assassins as highly trained elite death-sworn soldiers, but reality is often quite the opposite. Most are just foolish youths, easily ignited by extremist ideologies, who haven't yet truly understood the value of life.
"Tomorrow?" Franz Ferdinand frowned.
"On such a happy wedding anniversary for you and my Aunt, there's no need to continue taking such risks. My Aunt was clearly terrified just now and needs to be comforted. Why don't we go rest at the safe military barracks on the outskirts of the city first, and then visit the hospital tomorrow morning?"
"Hmm."
Happiness, wedding anniversary, Aunt. Karl believed that Franz Ferdinand's deep affection and responsibility toward his family would lead him to make the choice.
It was as if 20th Century pride and 19th-century tenderness were clashing fiercely on his face; Franz Ferdinand's brow furrowed tightly.
"...Fine. You have a point."
It worked!
Tenderness triumphed over stubbornness, and Franz Ferdinand finally nodded.
"Notify the motorcade to change the route and head directly to the nearby military barracks! Lead vehicle, immediately confirm if the road to the barracks is clear!"
Everything seemed to be taking a turn for the better.
"Uncle, please ride in the same car as me. Let the Governor ride in a separate vehicle," Karl suggested immediately after.
He truly couldn't trust Potiorek, who had displayed incompetence to the extreme. Despite being closest to the scene and the security arrangements, he had failed to implement any effective preventive measures and then had the audacity to boast afterward; how could anyone feel at ease letting such a person stay by their side?
In the end, the vehicle was occupied by an Imperial Guard driver, Karl, Franz Ferdinand, and Duchess Sophie.
"Listen carefully, do not stop under any circumstances. No matter what happens on the roadside, rush out of the city at maximum speed and head for the barracks. Understood?"
"Understood, Your Highness!"
The driver was also from the Imperial Guard, had undergone rigorous training, and was trustworthy.
Since the inception of the Austro-Hungarian Imperial Guard, many officers and soldiers had been required to learn how to drive automobiles.
Although automobiles were still a novelty in this era, driving skills—especially the ability to handle emergencies in complex situations—remained an important skill.
Not to mention this era where carriages and cars coexisted; even in Karl's past life, driving on the road was itself an ability that required experience and adaptability.
Moreover, road conditions in the early 20th Century were far more complex than in the future.
Even Karl, who had driven in his past life, had doubted whether he should give up the idea of driving himself when he first arrived in this era.
But not all accidents are caused by human error or assassin attacks.