"...the coming of the Archduke will benefit us all." You pause for the sake of drama; they keep staring. The men sip their drinks. You adjust your grip on your crutches.
"Never before have we faced such a grand opportunity, sirs: to be met with a young man of wit and character – an heir fully formed – and to be able to mold him to our whims, our desires, to make a proper Sarmatian of a Westerner," you say. "We all assented to the coming of the French Prince, whether our hearts believed in him or not, and I feel as if many of us hoped for a young man of similar character to the young Austrian Archduke. But we all know how it turned out."
"Preening, preening, a little fop," grumbles Hetman Sieniawski, to the chuckles of the other three. They all seem to agree on that, even when some of them voted for him.
"Indeed, he did not reach our expectations or standards," you agree. "But did that French prince venture into a congress of his would-be lords and speak before them, make promises from his own mouth, rather than through an emissary? At the age of what? Eighteen?" You know that bastard Walezy well: "In his twenties – a few months my junior – the Frenchman had already learned to sneer at what he considered foreign, to enjoy the fine things of life without regard for country or people."
"But the Archduke Maciej?" you ask. "Surely, my lords, you were there to see his speech, and if you were detained, have read the transcriptions: he has offered up his body, his mind, and his soul in service to us. For the first time, we will have a king that truly knows his place, and can be educated on his unique role within our unique freedom," you say. "Imagine a young man educated by the teachings of our statesmen, our poets, our men of letters – unlike his brothers, he was not raised up by board-stiff Spaniards. He will listen to his people."
You look to Wiśniowiecki and Tyszkiewicz. "There will be no repeats of the injustices of Lublin, meted out by – and may he rest in the arms of Christ, for he was a good man – one accustomed to rule in the style as other kings do." You hope you haven't spoken too ill of the late Zygmunt August, for the sake of respect. You do not wish to appear an upstart, or too strong of a Lithuanian partisan. Perhaps, though, there is a world where the Ruthenians will be reunited with their Litwin brothers; you hope that the twin representatives of the south may deduce that. "What were the three promises of Walezy? Victorious war with the Muscovite, peace with the Turk, and riches for the realm and its noblemen. The Archduke brings forth that offer again."
"To the second point, Your Serene Highness…" It's Sieniawski, the military man, turning the heads of the other three. "All of us present, excepting my friend the Lord Swordbearer Tarnowski, hold our primary estates within striking distance of the Tatar. All of us know of their savagery," he says, eyes darting to where your leg would be. His fellows nod and hum. "And they are but hounds of the Turk – what if the Habsburgs draw us into war with the great janissary holding the leash?"
A common question, and a rightful one, you must confess. It's a good thing you've dedicated thought to this.
"Yes, of course, Lord Hetman, a valid concern," you say. "Might I remind my lords that for this reason have the Austrian emissaries – and the Archduke himself – promised…"
[] "...an armistice with the Turk, to coincide with an alliance with the Emperor. A perfect balance of power."
[] "...the creation of a strong military frontier, staffed by our motivated countrymen. There will exist forever a bulwark against Mohammatan aggression."
[] write-in.
Finish the sentence.